The Red Thread
by Cordite Quill
Summary: Sarah opens her eyes to find herself in a familiar ballroom with a certain Goblin King. Is this a dream? What is she doing back after so long? And where will it lead? To more heartbreak and ruin or maybe something even more surprising?
1. Part One

**The Red Thread – Part One**

Sarah opened her eyes and found she was in a familiar room. She would recognize those floating bubbles anywhere, not to mention the marble tiles, the luxuriant fountains, the strange steps, the floating platforms…

She was in the bubble ballroom, except it was empty.

No, nearly empty. Someone was sitting in a very familiar chair, a chair that once had provided her freedom from this very dream, the last time she had had it. The someone shifted and Sarah instantly recognized the mane of unruly, blonde hair, tendrils coming down to frame a face hidden by a grotesque goblin mask. In fact, that blonde hair had dyed black tips.

He stood. He was wearing a bejeweled jacket with embroidery and black, tight pants. Just the type of pants she always remembered.

On one level, Sarah was incredibly annoyed. Why was she here, facing down the Goblin King in an empty ballroom? Had he dared to bring her back? On another level, she felt a flare of excitement; felt her old self, the one that believed in adventures and wishes and magic, stir deep within her soul. Oh, she wanted an adventure now—she also wanted to challenge a certain Goblin King.

Sarah took two steps forward, but kept a good distance between her and the masked figure who could only be the ruler of the Labyrinth. "What am I doing here?" she asked—no, she _demanded _the answer. She wasn't afraid of him, and she wasn't young enough anymore to be confused by the plethora of feelings that jumped around inside her.

"Indeed, that is a good question," came the shockingly familiar voice from behind the mask. Sarah shuddered before she could help herself. He lifted something and to Sarah's shock, she saw it was a bright, red thread that was tied to his wrist. It curved through his palm, across the floor, and to her. "I believe this is the culprit."

Sarah followed the red as it snaked up and found the other end was tied to her own wrist. However, when he released it from his grasp, the red string disappeared. Sarah lifted her wrist, where it had been tied a moment ago, but now it was gone. She felt along her wrist for it, but only brushed against skin. She could feel her thundering pulse at her wrist.

"What kind of game are you playing now, Goblin King?"

"No game, I'm as annoyed by this turn of events as you are." And to her surprise, he _sounded _unhappy. "I suppose despite your words to me in that final scene at my castle, you are still tied to the Labyrinth—to me." He lifted a hand to stop her from saying anything and continued, "It is not some manipulation on my part, I assure you. I would not have it this way if I could."

"Oh…well…what happened? Am I dreaming?" Sarah tried to remember what she had been doing just before this moment. She had begun the day like any other Saturday: she woke at seven o'clock, enjoying the extra hour of sleep, before heading to the gym and sweating on a StairMaster (how she hated that machine, but she wanted to lose the extra ten pounds she'd gained in college, but the last three were giving her quite a lot of difficulty). Then she'd bought breakfast at the grocery store—fresh fruit, cheese, and milk for her oatmeal—as well as the next week's groceries before heading home. Right?

Actually, the last thing she remembered was picking out two grapefruits.

Sarah scratched her head, frowning. She looked down and saw she was wearing a plain, old T-shirt and faded jeans. So, had she woken up on Saturday? Maybe she was just remembering her usual routine and in reality she was still asleep in bed, waiting for her alarm to wake her up. The clothes would be little consequence, then, she could have been wearing a chicken suit for all the control she usually had on her dreams. Although she was very glad she wasn't wearing a chicken suit—that would have been embarrassing in front of the Goblin King. Then again, this dream seemed very real. Might as well enjoy it until she had to stop; it wasn't every day she got to talk to the Goblin King.

"It's been a while, huh?" she said.

It had been ten years, actually, and in all that time there hadn't been one bit of magic, one speck of evidence of goblins, and despite her friends' words—"if you ever have need of us…"—she had never seen Hoggle, Didymous, or Ludo again. She definitely hadn't seen the Goblin King.

"Has it? Time flows so differently where I'm from." He said it so nonchalantly that Sarah felt annoyance flare.

Fine, two could play at that game. She sat in a nearby chair, facing him, thinking that the five feet between them could have been a chasm five thousand feet across; his body language _oozed _cold detachment.

"Right, true. How're Hoggle, Didymus, and Ludo?" Sarah asked, pointedly _not _asking after his well-being. She smiled when frustration flared in his mismatched eyes. Good, he'd noticed.

However, the smooth, aloofness was back just as quickly and he smiled. The mask ended just above his lips. It obscured any close analysis of his expression. He said, "Just the same, I imagine. I don't have time to visit _all _my subjects."

"_Because I'm just so important I don't have the time," _his tone implied. Right, he was the all-wonderful Goblin King who ruled over the Underground.

"Of course," Sarah said, sarcastically. "How could I forget?"

_Her _tone said: _"However, it was very easy to do so."_

She felt childish satisfaction when the Goblin King stiffened. However, as amusing as this tête-à-tête was—and in a perverse way, she was having a lot of fun trading veiled insults back and forth with the Goblin King, and falling back into the way they had been ten years ago—none of it answered her most pressing question.

"What's the red thread for?" Sarah asked. She suddenly realized that this dream may be more real than she cared to admit. She remembered that Jareth had mentioned they were connected—and what if they really were? Did she want that?

_I don't feel much anger or unhappiness about that, more like…relief? Relief that I'm still connected to the Labyrinth? _She thought. Yes, relief was a good descriptor. She chalked the emotion up to her adventurous nature, which had a really hard time letting go of the Labyrinth and going back to her mundane life.

"It connects you and I," Jareth said, enigmatically.

"Why?"

"Because of your time here."

Something about the way he said it made Sarah think. He said "here," not "in the Labyrinth." She looked around the ballroom and said, "Here? _Here_ here, as in the ballroom?"

"Yes, I suppose something happened during our encounter here that forged a link between you and I. One that, surprisingly, did not break when you rejected me later on."

"_Rejected _you?" Sarah's eyebrows rose. "What did I reject of yours, exactly? You took my brother! You tried to bog me! If anything, I rejected your cruelty and cunning!"

"Yes yes," he said, and to her surprise, his voice was bitter. "I am the horrible villain who took your brother away _when you asked it of me_, and sent you on a grand adventure the likes of which you had only dreamt of before. I gave you challenges to cleverly overcome, heroic lines to say, put you in the path of friends, showed you magic in all its glory, and reordered time. I am a monster."

Sarah wasn't quite sure how to react to his speech. On one hand, this was the _Goblin King, _who could not be trusted. But, on the other hand, she found it amusing and fascinating that the way he recounted events. He had conveniently forgotten tossing her in an oubliette or down a hole to nearly splash into the Bog of Eternal Stench; he had forgotten the Cleaners he sent after her; he had forgotten taking away her hours because she had tried to put on a brave front and told him his challenge was easy; he had forgotten the giggling and pointing of the ballroom dancers; he had forgotten the grabbing of the Helpful Hands and the Fireys who had wanted to take off her head. And, of course, he had smoothed over the unfairness of taking her brother based on a wish she hadn't meant, then forcing her to choose between her dreams and her love for Toby.

A choice that needed no deliberation at the end and one she had never regretted, but that didn't mean she hadn't lain awake some nights and wondered _what might have been_.

"You have an odd way of remembering the past," Sarah said, after a few moments of weighty silence.

"Is it odd to remember it a little more rose-tinted, if bitterly heavy?" the Goblin King asked, fiddling with his mask, but he did not take it off. "I find your tendency to label me as 'monstrous villain' naïve."

Sarah didn't like being called naïve, it was a little too close to the condescending words he'd spoken to her when she was fifteen—and now she was twenty-five, damnit! She'd graduated from high school, went to prom and shared a sweet night with her boyfriend (now her ex) afterwards, then went to college—and not just _any _college, but a very prestigious one! She'd graduated cum laude, she'd held a respectable job for two years now, and she was dating a very fine young man. She was a far cry from her fifteen year old self who hadn't realized what was fair and what wasn't, and had been a little self-centered and selfish, besides.

However, she tried to swallow her first few angry replies to his assessment of her. She would show just how _mature _she had become! She said, tightly, "I never thought you were monstrous. That's _your _word, not mine."

He looked surprised, she saw his eyebrows shoot up, barely visible above the mask. "Pardon me," he said. "I assumed you must, since I offered you everything you dreamed of and you simply said…"

"You have no power—"

"Yes, those words," he cut-in, angrily.

Sarah looked at him. The mask was very detailed, with grooves and wrinkles and a large, bulbous nose that added to the grotesqueness of it, instead of making it more comical. However, it couldn't completely hide everything, she still noticed the tightness of his mouth and displeasure twinkling in his eyes.

And looking into his mismatched eyes—which had always struck her as the most beautiful she had ever seen, full of contrasts and passion and mirth—she realized something. "You think I hate you!" she blurted out.

The Goblin King didn't say anything, but his mouth tightened and his body language changed subtly, enough that Sarah knew it was an affirmative.

"I don't hate you," she said, surprised that he could even _care_ what she thought of him. She said as much. "I don't understand why it would matter to you anyway! I mean, here you are, this very powerful, magical, good-looking, _immortal_ being. What does it matter what I think?"

The Goblin King grinned, showing off perfectly straight teeth. Sarah felt something inside her thrum seeing that grin—she'd never seen anything besides the self-assured smirk he usually wore—and wished he wasn't wearing the mask. She was sure that when the Goblin King smiled like that, it would light up his face.

"You think I'm good-looking?" he purred.

_Oops. _She hadn't meant to say that part out loud. She didn't want to hint he had any power over her. But, now that the words had been said, she couldn't snatch them back. Hadn't she learned? Words had _power, _after all, it was her careless words that had gotten her in trouble ten years ago.

Sarah lifted her chin and set her jaw in a stubborn challenge. "Yeah, so I think you're good-looking. So what? It's not so surprising, all things considered. Besides, as I said before, I never hated you—okay, maybe a little, in the beginning," Sarah added when she saw the doubt in the Goblin King's eyes. "I might have hated you went you took away a couple of my hours."

The Goblin King grinned again, remembering it. "I think I wanted to hear you say 'that's not fair' again. I was keeping a running count, you know. You proclaimed many things were not fair in my Labyrinth, I found it amusing."

"You were watching me then?" Sarah asked.

The Goblin King looked at her. They gazed into each other's eyes for a few long moments and something arced between them, something that hadn't been there before—or at least Sarah hadn't noticed it in _him_. The silence became heavy, pregnant with unsaid words and meanings. Suddenly, the Goblin King broke the staring contest and looked away first.

"Of course," he said, so softly she barely heard him.

"I suspected," Sarah said, with a shrug. The voyeurism didn't bother her now.

She felt antsy suddenly and stood, going towards one of the fountains. This dream was very long, and strange, considering all they seemed to be doing was talking. _And in a companionable way, too, _she thought with amusement as she neared the lip of the fountain. She leaned forward so she could stare at one of the cherub sculptures that adorned the middle spout. Her fingertips brushed across the cold, marble lip. _Who knew it was possible to just talk to the Goblin King?_

Which meant she had a wonderful opportunity, one she shouldn't squander. Sarah turned and took a few steps towards the Goblin King again. "Since we're here, can I ask a question?"

"Yes, since we're here." He gave a regal wave of his hand, encouraging her to continue.

"I've wondered this for a long time," Sarah said, then took a deep breath and met the Goblin King's gaze. "_Why _did you give me the power to call you?"

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**Author's Notes:** Hello everyone! Long time no talk! I know, I've been scarce, but life has been VERY busy for me. If you've been wondered where I have been and what I've been up to, I suggest going to my weblog, Cordite Quill's Corner. The link is on my profile page. (But I will summarize the two major time crunches in my life: sending out job applications and finishing my novel).

This story, as some of you who have read my others may have noticed, is different than my usual stuff. There's not going to be a lot of action, there's going to be a lot of dialog between Jareth and Sarah (an "airing out of laundry", so to speak). I don't know if there will be much in the way of adult situations, it may not go further than a K-rated, it _definitely_ won't go higher than T. It's also going to be a shorty -- only a three-parter -- and I plan to finish all three parts by this weekend. It's very late here, but I've suffered some insomnia recently and so I thought I'd be productive. However, now that I was able to put this down on paper (or word processor, as the case is), I find I'm getting tired so I only did a cursory edit and decided to post Part One up for your enjoyment. :) If you find any glaring mistakes, please let me know.

**Please review! All comments/suggestions/questions/etc. are welcome, and I reply to every one!** I am interested in seeing what you think so far, since this is different than my usual style. I'm also wondering what your guesses are -- is this a dream? Something more? Can anyone guess what the red thread is and what it means? What do you think will happen? Review and tell me your thoughts! :)

And so, without further ado, I head off to my own dreamland...

See you soon, dear readers!

P.S. To those who are wondering about my other stories -- rest assured, I am working on them. I'm also writing this shorty to ease me back into the Labby fic frame of mind. :) (Aah, Jareth, I have missed you...)

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_Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing in regards to the Labyrinth. It is a creation of Jim Henson and I'm probably just stomping around it inelegantly. This fanfic is not for profit, but please do not repost it anywhere without my explicit permission._


	2. Part Two

**The Red Thread – Part Two**

The Goblin King looked at her in surprise. "Why?" he said, his voice incredulous. "After all these years you dare ask me _why_? And you even have the book!"

"I haven't read the book since I was sixteen. Since…" Sarah stopped, but in her mind she thought: _Since I gave up hoping to see my friends and moved on._

He must have found her expression interesting because he studied her for a moment. His mismatched eyes were half-lidded and once again Sarah found she couldn't read the Goblin King—she'd never been good at reading him. And the mask certainly wasn't helping. But, even the last time she'd been in this grand room, the ballroom of her dreams, dancing in his arms, she hadn't been able to read him. But there had been a few times when she'd caught something in his expression, in the way he looked at her…

Like when she'd broken the ballroom bubble with that chair and left him behind. Or when she'd said the Labyrinth was a piece of cake—boy, had she wished she could have taken those words back after she said them! Or when she had said those fateful words—"you have no power over me"—the words he hadn't even wanted to hear now, ten years later.

Just for a moment, Sarah nearly grasped something…something twinkled in her mind like a star and she reached for it. Once she had it, she _knew _that everything would make sense: why she was here, why the Goblin King seemed so offended by her question, why he had looked at her like that those few times…even why they were connected by a red string…

But then the twinkling went out and she couldn't _remember_…why was it just out of reach?

"If you can't remember, after everything, I won't tell you," the Goblin King said, decidedly, strangely echoing her own thoughts.

Sarah rolled her eyes. He sounded like a petulant child—"Well, if you can't remember my birthday, then I won't tell you!" When was the Goblin King's birthday? How old was this mythic creature before her? Hmm, those questions opened up even more questions…

Sarah pushed the thoughts aside and walked around the ballroom, looking at the beautiful platforms and the crystal chandeliers. "Fine," she said, as she idly paced the confines of the ballroom, "don't tell me, then."

While this was all interesting on one level, Sarah began wondering when this dream—if it was a dream—would end. Or, conversely, what should she do _until _it ended? Just walking around an empty ballroom wasn't much fun, and the Goblin King was being sulky. He had gone back to sit on the chair and was watching her.

A very low-hanging chandelier, with crystals bobbing off strings at the ends, proved too much of a temptation and she stood on tip-toe to tap one of the crystals, watching it dance on its string. It clinked against the closest crystal bauble next to it, giving off a pure tinkling noise.

"I didn't realize how beautiful this place is," Sarah said.

"It was like this before," the Goblin King answered.

"I was distracted before," Sarah said. "I—I found that particular ballroom very difficult. I didn't like all those people—all those watchers."

"Funny, you chose the dream. The peach only allowed it to come to the forefront. This ballroom, Sarah, is entirely your doing. It did not exist before, it has not been used since," he said, tilting his head slightly to watch her tap another crystal. "This place is imprinted with you."

"And you," Sarah shot back. "I know what you were trying to do."

"Oh, what was I trying to do?"

Sarah didn't look at him, pointedly staring at the crystal chandelier. In her mind, she could hear his silky voice from her memories: _"…Turn it just so, and it will show you your dreams…" _

"Trying to make me forget," Sarah answered, softly.

"Or…trying to make _me _forget." His voice was too close. She turned and he stood there, only a foot away. His eyes glittered behind the horrible mask, his full lips pursed, thoughtfully. He watched her. Sarah shuddered, unsure if it was from the weighted stare or his words.

He reached out a hesitant hand, almost as if he couldn't help himself, and touched her hair with the barest brush of his fingertip. He shuddered now; she actually saw his eyelids slide down to hide his mismatched eyes. Before he pulled his hand away, before she had even thought it through, Sarah grabbed his wrist. The contact was unlike anything she'd felt before, pure sensory overload. Her fingers tingled and when she looked at her hand, she saw the red thread tied there. It had shortened so that the string looped around her wrist and went immediately to the Goblin King's, looping around his, as well.

She asked again, because seeing it shorten and reappear made her suspicious of it, and because she felt he was keeping things from her, "What is the red thread for?"

"To keep us from forgetting," he answered, hopelessly. He had opened his eyes again and he was staring at her with something she didn't want to name, some fire that consumed him.

She said, and was surprised when her voice didn't sound bitter, "How the hell could I forget you?"

The Goblin King smiled. He moved to break her grip, but then held her hand in his, gently. His palm was warm. Sarah moved her hand in his grip until their fingers threaded together. She watched their entwined hands almost like she was watching another pair, as if her hand wasn't connected to her anymore. She had a distinct feeling her expression was one of surprise, but not displeasure.

"Would you dance?" the Goblin King asked, curiously.

"When?" She glanced at his face. "_Now?_"

"Now. We're in the ballroom, there's no one around…"

He said it like he expected her to say no and something in Sarah's heart clenched with a slew of emotions. Damnit, this was her reliving her past all over again. She was the confused, unsure mortal and he was still the magical being, the tempter.

She realized, feeling dread and exhilaration, that she didn't _want _to say no. Did she always have to say "no"? This was her dream, after all—and she'd already won back her brother.

"Okay," she said.

The Goblin King blinked, then grinned and grabbed her other hand, and before Sarah could say anything more, he swept her away across the marbled dance floor. She was wearing tennis shoes and they slapped dully against the tiles as they moved gracefully. Sarah had never been a good dancer—she could do the usual bump-and-grind type stuff that was required of at nightclubs, but that was about it. However, with the Goblin King, she'd never needed to know how to waltz. Just like in her ballroom dream ten years ago, he could sweep her off her feet and suddenly her eyes were fixated only on him. He glittered unlike anything else. When she was with him, she felt like her whole life up till that point had been in black and white; he was the Technicolor.

This could get complicated.

_But it's a dream, _she reminded herself. _You've had a few about the Labyrinth, this is just another one._

"_Me thinks the lady doth protest too much," _a voice said in her mind, sounding curiously like her old high school English teacher. Sarah felt a small bit of dread form in her stomach, heavy like a rock. If only she could _remember_ what she had been doing, when she had fallen asleep…

She wracked her brain, trying to reconstruct the time before she had obviously fallen asleep. Okay, Friday, what had she done Friday? Gone to work…she worked in an office, pretty mundane stuff. She clocked out at five, like every weekday, and then…?

_I went to the bank, _she remembered. Right, it had been payday, so she'd gone to the bank…and afterwards? _Called Jim and asked if he wanted to go to dinner. _Right, Jim, her boyfriend. They'd met at an Italian restaurant and had some nice food and conversation. Jim had walked her to her car and kissed her, promised to call her Saturday about arranging a date next week, and then…?

_Watched a late night movie, went to sleep…_

"Sarah, where are you, Precious?" The Goblin King sounded amused.

Sarah focused on him and smiled triumphantly. "I did buy two grapefruits! I was going to have yogurt with them."

He didn't miss a beat in the dance as he swirled her to an orchestra only he heard, leading her, and she willingly followed. He raised an eyebrow. "Grapefruits? Yogurt? What _are _you talking about?"

"I couldn't remember anything," Sarah said, "so I was trying to reconstruct my day. I remember now: I _did _wake up Saturday and go to the grocery store. I bought two grapefruits, yogurt, milk, and some stuff for next week. Then I went to my car…and then…and then…" Sarah struggled to remember. Finally, she sighed and shook her head. "It's gone. I can't remember. But I must have gotten home and napped? This is a dream, right?"

"Why?" the Goblin King asked. There was something in his eyes that Sarah couldn't identify, some emotion, and she wished she could take off his mask so she could see his whole face. "Why does this have to be a dream?"

"What else could it be?"

"Reality?" he murmured so softly she nearly missed it.

Her heart picked up speed. Despite having danced with him for at least five minutes now—time tended to stand still when she was held by the Goblin King—she wasn't even breathing hard, and he was pulling out all the stops, twirling her and spinning her across the ballroom. But now, her heart felt heavy and achy and her pulse thundered in her veins.

She could smell him: an earthy odor of fresh leaves, a smell that had permeated the Labyrinth and had always been associated in her mind from that day forth to magic. In the years that followed her visit to the Labyrinth, whenever spring came and she could smell it on the air, she thought of him and her time in his kingdom. Maybe, if she was honest with herself, she'd admit that a part of her glanced around looking for a white barn owl.

Maybe…if she was honest with herself…

"You said," Sarah murmured, slowly, trying to work her thoughts out so she could speak them adequately, "the ballroom connects you and I, that something happened here that connected us. Jareth, do you _know _what it was?"

The Goblin King shivered, she could feel the tremor move along his body and echo in hers through their joined hands.

He answered her question with a question: "Have you thought of me, Sarah, even once since you left the Labyrinth?"

It wasn't a question she had expected, and it wasn't an answer for her. She raised her eyebrows. "Have _you _thought of me, Jareth?"

"The red thread makes it difficult to ignore—"

"That's not an answer," Sarah interrupted, impatiently.

"I don't see why I must answer," the Goblin King said, haughtily. He executed a complicated move that had her twirling to arm's length, then he snapped his arm and she followed the motion, twirling back towards him—

_Back towards _him_, _a part of her mind whispered, as if the thought was important somehow—

And at the end of the twirl, she realized she felt fabric rustling against her legs and heard her steps making _clack-clack _noises instead of the dull thud of rubber soles. She looked down and squeaked with surprise to find herself wearing the white princess dress and matching shoes again. She reached up and touched her hair, feeling it held back from her face by the same crystal hairpins in the shapes of flowers and leaves.

She looked up at Jareth in surprise and saw he was wearing the same costume as he had been in the past: the bejeweled jacket in midnight blue, the white shirt, and the gray breeches. There were even blue streaks in his hair.

Jareth grinned and said, "For old time's sake."

"You're trying to distract me," Sarah said as he spun her close. For a moment, she was tucked against him, her back to him, and she felt his arms around her. She swallowed, mentally trying to slow her racing heartbeat. _Please don't let him feel that. _"You—you haven't answered my question."

"I said I don't see why I must answer," Jareth said, encouraging her into a graceful side-sweeping step then spun her so she faced him again. He settled a hand on her hip and Sarah could feel the warmth of his palm through the dress. "After all, I asked you first."

Sarah rolled her eyes. Technically, his question had been an answer to _her _question, so he still owed her some answers.

Feeling bold, driven by the pounding of her heart and a curiously light-headed feeling, Sarah reached up and delicately grasped the protruding nose of the goblin mask. She pulled off the grotesque thing and couldn't help smiling when the Goblin King's full face was revealed.

He was as handsome as she remembered—maybe more so, because now she could fully appreciate his looks as an adult. The high cheekbones, the angular features, the sweeping eyebrows over his amazing eyes, the straight and aristocratic nose over thin, sensual lips—oh yes, she remembered him.

"Why can't you ever just _answer _me, Jareth?" she murmured, exasperated.

Their eyes met and Jareth slowed, then stopped dancing. Sarah, still following his lead, stopped as well, but she didn't take her eyes off of his. He still held her hand, but the other left her hip to cup her cheek. Sarah didn't think it was possible, but her heartbeat picked up speed until she could hear it echoing in her ears.

Jareth's mismatched eyes stared into hers. His blue eye looked like a clear ocean; his brown eye looked like a bottomless abyss.

He stroked her cheek, his touch leaving behind tingles and causing a shiver to run down her spine. He noticed, and smiled.

He leaned close and Sarah had just enough time to feel a spark of panic—_Oh crap, this is really going to happen and I don't mind! _She thought—before his lips touched hers. It was a tender kiss, just the barest brush, soft like butterfly wings.

Sarah dropped the mask and heard it dully land on the marble with a soft rubbery sound, but the noise seemed far away. She reached up, wrapping her arms around the Goblin King and pressed herself against him, deepening the kiss.

Jareth took a sharp intake of breath, as if he was surprised by her reaction, and then he met her kiss with equal passion.

And Sarah's world fell down.

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**Author's Notes:** Due to the kiss (and the kisses that will happen in the future :D), and the slight foul language, I upped the rating to T. I really enjoyed writing this part of the story because it was just _fun_ writing Jareth trying to avoid answering Sarah's questions and Sarah finally getting exasperated and asking him why he can't ever just answer her. I think he managed to distract her again, though. XD

Well, what do you guys think? The next part, which I still am anticipating being the last part (although if it runs long, I may cut it into two), will reveal what exactly is going on. It also has all the action (whatever there is) in this story. :) Some of you did guess what the red string is trying to tell our hero and heroine...although Sarah doesn't quite know what that entails yet.

**Please review! Leave your comments/questions/suggestions,** I always reply to every review I get. What did you think? Has the pace picked up adequately? Any theories to what's happening? Hope to hear from you! And don't worry, you won't be left in suspense. I shall update VERY soon. Muhahaha! XD

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_Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing in regards to the Labyrinth. This fanfiction is completely not-for-profit, but I do ask that it is not reposted anywhere else without my permission. Thank you!_


	3. Part Three

**The Red Thread – Part Three**

She opened her eyes, heard the soft _plish-plish _noise of water, and felt rocking beneath her. Her vision was filled with a brilliant, cloudless blue sky. Her hands were resting over her chest and her legs were drawn straight out. A memory surfaced in her mind, from her high school days in theater. Her drama teacher had been insistent that each person in the class memorize a poem a week, to exercise one's mind and practice retention. Once, quite ambitiously, Sarah had memorized "The Lady of Shallot" and now some words came back to her, like a faraway song flittering across the hills of her mind:

_And at the closing of the day_

_She loosed the chain, and down she lay;_

_The broad stream bore her far away,_

_The Lady of Shalott_.

A familiar voice said, "Sarah?"

Sarah leaned up on her elbows and looked at the far end of the dinghy where the Goblin King sat. This place was full of light, as if a sun should be out, and yet she didn't see one. However, in the light, Jareth's hair looked like spun gold. He was wearing black jeans and a tight fitting, dark blue collared shirt that was mostly unbuttoned to show off his smooth chest. All-in-all, it was a rather plain look for the Goblin King, but they were in a tiny dinghy so maybe he didn't have the room for his usual outfits. His hair was still an elaborate, untamed mane.

"You finally wake," Jareth said.

Sarah slowly sat, her back twinging from lying against the flat, hard boards of the dinghy and she rubbed the sore spot. Looking around, she saw only empty blue waters, nearly the same shade as the blue sky. "Where is this? Another dream place?"

"In a way," Jareth murmured. He was fiddling with something and it took Sarah a moment to realize it was the red thread. She followed the crimson string to her own wrist, where it was tied.

Jareth turned and suddenly said, "Look, land." His voice sounded surprisingly bleak.

Sarah looked up. Okay, she had _just _scanned the horizon and she was sure there had only been ocean for as far as she could see. She took a deep breath. "I'm beginning to wonder about all of this. I want answers, Jareth." Sarah carefully walked to the other end of the dinghy, which bobbed dangerously in the water as she moved. She sat down close enough to the Goblin King to rest her hand on his thigh. His mismatched eyes stared into hers, enigmatic, giving away nothing.

"Take us somewhere else," she said. "Take us back to the ballroom and we can talk there." She didn't like being in this small boat in the middle of nowhere. This wasn't her dream, was it the Goblin King's?

"In this respect, Precious, you give me too much credit," the Goblin King said, smiling sadly. "Once, long ago, you told me I had no power over you. The sentiment holds true, and it is one I have never reciprocated." He reached out and touched her hair, letting the dark strands filter through his pale fingers. Why did he look so sad?

"What are you saying? This isn't your doing?"

"Neither this nor the ballroom, Precious. It was you, it's always been you."

"How? I've never called you before. I've never been able to bring you to me."

"Did you try, Precious? Did you really try?" Jareth chuckled. "Such irony that you'd call me _now_."

"Jareth…what is the red thread?"

Sarah looked at her wrist. The string was short again, keeping them close. Jareth leaned back, resting his elbows on the edges of the dinghy, and because the thread was so short, Sarah was forced to scoot closer until she was sitting between Jareth's outstretched legs. Sarah wasn't sure if the thread would grow to allow such movement, it seemed to change at its own whim, but she didn't want to feel its pull so she went along willingly.

"Let me tell you a story," Jareth said, and when Sarah made a noise of protest, he held up a hand—the one not tied to the string—and glanced over his shoulder. "We have some time. Please, indulge me."

Sarah sighed but said nothing else.

Jareth said, "Once upon a time, there was a shockingly handsome, wonderfully virile, incredibly powerful Goblin King—" Sarah raised an eyebrow. Jareth grinned, but continued the story, "And he was foolish enough to answer the call of a particularly naïve teenage girl who didn't like her brother or her stepmother. This girl called to him and he took the brother away, just like she asked—"

"Why?" Sarah asked, unable to help herself.

"Why indeed?" Jareth said, tilting his head back with a sigh. He gazed across the cloudless sky as if the answer were there, written against the heavens. "Have you forgotten your fairytales, Sarah dear?"

Sarah was about to snap a retort—probably something like "why must you always answer a question with a question?"—when the lines from a particular book came back to her memory: _But what no one knew was that the Goblin King fell in love with her. _Sarah tried to scoff it away, but the expression on Jareth's face made the words stick in her throat.

"So, when the Goblin King helped the girl, he expected…something else, but the girl wanted her brother back. She had foolishly wished him away and like a toy she missed once it was gone, she realized she loved her brother—once he was gone."

Sarah winced. She didn't like this summing up, this recounting, of her past. She was still ashamed about her behavior. But, she found herself fascinated nonetheless; after all she'd never heard the events from his point of view before.

Jareth said, "The Goblin King thought this was a wonderful opportunity! He had a very long life, you see, and perhaps a game would provide some entertainment. And he liked watching her. At first, he just played along, but this girl provided him with so many delicious feelings. Amusement when she said 'it's not fair!' Annoyance when she called the Labyrinth 'a piece of cake.' Admiration when she didn't scream or cry in the oubliette or when the creatures of the Labyrinth played tricks on her. Jealousy when she bestowed a kiss upon another."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "It was such a small kiss, amongst friends."

Jareth ignored her. He seemed transfixed by his own story telling, although he refused to look at her. Instead, his gaze was affixed to the sky. Sarah could study his profile leisurely: the sharp cheekbones, the elegant curve of his neck, the rise and fall of his chest. He may be a magical being, but he breathed, just like her.

"Anyway, it was probably that spark of jealousy that forced his hand, because he made a bid for…seduction. Something he was very good at, mind you," Jareth flashed her a grin, "so he was very confident this young lady from Aboveground held no chance. The game suddenly seemed very real to him and he wanted to win. But then, there was a moment…there was a moment when she entered the ballroom in a beautiful white dress, something out of her wildest imaginings where princesses danced with princes and slippers were always made of glass. There was a moment, yes, when the goblins-turned-humans chortled, danced, and stroked their ugly masks…and she walked by them with some fear, yes, but with her countenance every inch a queen…there was a moment _then, _yes, when the Goblin King pulled down his own mask to see better and was transfixed." Jareth paused. "Their eyes met from the distance across the ballroom. If he had known what would happen, he wouldn't have been so cocky when he first looked at her, but it was too late. A bond was made between them, then, which could not be broken."

"A bond…" Sarah looked at her wrist, but the red thread had disappeared, however if she thought about it hard enough she could almost feel a ghostly string around her wrist. "If it's the kind you're suggesting, shouldn't it link our hearts?"

Jareth gave her a bored look, perhaps in answer to her light and disbelieving tone. He said, "It doesn't just connect our hearts, Precious. It connects _us, _all that we are." He sighed and sat up. "It's quite a nuisance, really. The reason I am here is because of it."

Before Sarah could ask another question regarding that, Jareth glanced over his shoulder and frowned. "The land is close now."

Startled, Sarah looked up and gasped in surprise. She was sure the boat hadn't been moving any closer to the strip of land on the horizon, but now she could easily see it laid out like a carpet before her, taking up the whole horizon. She could make out the grass and craggily mountains, but there didn't seem to be any trees.

"What kind of place is that?"

"A place to end." Jareth looked thoughtfully at Sarah. "Tell me what you remember of that day—besides the grapefruit and the yogurt."

"Oh, um, I can't seem to remember anything beyond getting back into my car," Sarah said. "Why?"

"Please, Precious. Try to remember."

Sarah looked out over the water. She watched the few ripples come out from the dinghy as it glided across the surface, however she noticed the ripples didn't travel very far, as if the water was more viscous. She remembered a Discovery Channel special she'd seen on the Dead Sea and shivered.

"I…can't remember, it's a blank."

"You must," Jareth said, firmly.

"Why?" Sarah asked, exasperated. "Why must I do anything, Jareth? I'm getting tired of this…this dream! You're telling me we're connected by a little red thread…well, what happens if I snap it? Will I wake up then?"

"No," Jareth answered, softly. He didn't say anymore. Suddenly, he cupped Sarah's cheek, causing her to stiffen in surprise. "Ah, Precious, I suddenly feel overcome by remorse. Perhaps for everything, for I cannot deny that your life would have been easier had this connection never been forged. However, the irony of it is that I may be able to save you, something I couldn't do without the connection between us."

"Save me?" She stared into his eyes and he wasn't the usual trickster and tempter she knew. He was being _serious, _and his serious, unhappy expression made her heart pound with fear.

"Remember now, Sarah. You must remember. Close your eyes…"

His voice was so hypnotic, like a lullaby. Sarah remembered him singing to her—or maybe it had only been in her mind—but that had always been the hardest thing to resist. How was she meant to resist him when he sung to her such sweet, sad songs?

Sarah closed her eyes.

"Think, remember. You are Aboveground that day. Do not plunge into the missing parts of your memory just yet, instead pull back to just before. Where are you?"

"In…in the parking lot," Sarah said, slowly. She could see the memory in her mind's eye, and spoke out loud what she saw. The pavement was warm enough she could feel heat rising from it as she struggled with the paper bag and her car key. After some moments, she opened the door and deposited the bag on the passenger seat. "I got into the driver's side and…and…"

"What do you see outside the window?"

"The window?" Sarah hesitated, then focused, trying to jog her mind. "I see an old lady trudging to her car, a cane in her hand and a plastic bag in the other. But, then the key turned in the engine so I looked at the gear...made sure it was in drive before I took my foot off the pedal…and then…"

"Can you smell anything?"

"The citrusy scent of the grapefruit, yes. I think the heat of the car brings out the smell more. I…I press the button and the window slides down, bringing in cooler air. By then, I've turned into the traffic…"

"What do you see now, outside the window?"

It took her a moment of shifting in her mind, but the images were coming easier now. "Cars…a lot of cars…" She had waited for the light to turn green again at the intersection. She was the first one in the lane, and her apartments were just beyond. She was nearly home. Her stomach growled.

Here, her mind began rebelling. It didn't want to remember, but Jareth's soothing voice continued, prompting her memory with mundane, innocent questions. She began to hyperventilate, fear rising in her like a tidal wave. Something bad was going to happen, she knew it.

"The light changed. I exhilarated. Oh god…" Sarah's voice hitched into a sob. There was the screech of tires and she looked up to see a lone car trying to make it through the intersection, probably thinking the yellow light would have lasted longer. "I see his face for a moment…just one moment. A man, and he looks as surprised as I probably do. Then…"

The sound of twisting metal, the world a blur of colors, her body slamming to and fro…horrible pain, and then blessed darkness, a momentarily lull. But, the memories didn't end there. Like Pandora's Box, they had been released and the next thing Sarah saw, the next thing she recounted to Jareth, was waking up.

Her body was in such pain she couldn't move. When she looked out her driver's side window, she saw the car had barreled into her. The car door was indented as if a giant fist had hit it. Pushed against the door was the other car, its front crumpled. She could see the man slumped inside. She turned away. She could feel a stickiness sliding down the side of her face, but she couldn't move her hands to touch it. When she breathed, she coughed and tasted blood on her tongue, and her hitching breathe rattled like something was loose inside.

"I looked through the windshield and there were cars stopping, people coming to help—and then I saw you." Sarah opened her eyes and met Jareth's gaze. "You were standing in front of my car and you looked so sad. And then I closed my eyes and…"

Darkness and a pure silence she'd never heard before, because something had been missing.

_The sound of my heart, of my breath, they were gone, _Sarah realized and she began to cry now, silent tears falling down her face.

"Next thing I know, I woke up in the ballroom," Sarah said, finishing this horrible recounting. "But…but I'm breathing! I can feel my heart! _That _had to be the dream and _this _is the reality!"

"No," Jareth said, gently. "This is an in-between place. Our connection, the red thread, drew me to you. I knew the moment something happened. _You _drew me to you, Sarah, just before you…and you said my name when you saw me. And then I was in the ballroom with you and I realized that it was a little time given to us to say our goodbyes."

"No," Sarah sobbed. "This isn't happening. I can't be…I can't!" She couldn't say the word, she couldn't allow herself to believe it, because if she did, then she would really disappear. She looked at the approaching land and said, "Where are we going, then, if I'm…?"

Jareth glanced over his shoulder and nodded towards the land. "That is the Land of Death," he said.

"No," Sarah murmured again. The tears were sticky and cold against her cheeks, but she couldn't bring herself to wipe them away. A part of her was scared that her fingers would come away wet with blood and not tears. "_No!_"

A kind of dementia came over her mind then. In a way, it was comforting, like a warm blanket. She turned to the water, her eyes scanning its immaculate surface. Who knew how deep these still waters ran? But, she tensed her muscles.

Jareth leaped forward, faster than she would have guessed—inhumanly fast. He grabbed her arm and pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her. He shifted so the boat was balanced, sitting in its center. Sarah was shivering violently, although she didn't feel cold, and Jareth rubbed her back soothingly.

"You cannot do that," he said, softly. "The river would suck away at your soul."

Sarah shuddered, her mind whirling. If she couldn't escape this boat by swimming, then she was doomed to finish this journey to…where? What beyond awaited her? She glanced up at Jareth.

"Why are you still here? Are you going to drop me off at the pearly gates?"

Jareth gave her a small smile. "Not quite. Perhaps I just can't let go."

She supposed it was nice to have the Goblin King as company on this journey, unlike the last one where he had been her adversary.

Sarah stiffened, remembering something from her time in the Underground. She gasped, her heart leaping with hope, and pulled back from Jareth's arms so she could look him fully in the face. "Reorder time!" She grabbed his hand. "Please Jareth, you did it when I was in the Labyrinth. And, you did it when I came back to the Aboveground, so it looked like I'd only been gone a few hours. Please, reorder time now and take me back to that intersection! I can change the outcome!"

"I can't," Jareth said, gently. "If this had happened in _my _realm, then maybe. If you hadn't said those words to me, then maybe. But it's definitely too late now, Precious. You've been claimed by another. I cannot reorder your time."

"Claimed?"

"As all mortal souls eventually are." To her surprise, he leaned forward and began unbuttoning her shirt. Sarah made a sound of protest and shrunk back, but Jareth stopped at the second button and pulled it wide so her sternum and the edges of her bra were visible. Sarah looked down and saw a mark just above her breasts. It took her a moment of staring at it before the mark made sense to her befuddled, shocked brain: a black lotus. It looked like a birth mark, but she'd never seen it before. She touched the lotus and her skin felt smooth and blemish-free.

She raised her head and looked at Jareth. "Claimed," she murmured.

He nodded.

Sarah's vision blurred with tears again. Her voice trembled and she said, "There must be something you can do. You said 'mortal souls,' but you're not mortal, Jareth! You're powerful, too! _Please_, I'm not ready…" She stopped, but then took a shuddering breath and made herself say it: "I'm not ready to die."

Jareth winced, tried to look away, but Sarah cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. "You answered my wish once, Jareth. I wish—"

"Sarah," Jareth's expression darkened. "Don't. You don't know what you're doing."

"I do! I wish—"

"You will regret this!"

"_I wish for you to save my life!_" Sarah said, her voice rising over his protests.

Jareth jerked away until he was at the front of the dinghy again. He suddenly looked magnificent, every inch the king. The craggily land was his backdrop, making the Goblin King look harsh and untamed. His clothes had changed in the blink of an eye; he was wearing the black armor. A wind suddenly moaned over the ocean, causing his hair to dance wildly.

"There's a price," he said.

"Name it!"

"_I'll_ claim you. Your words, that parting gift to me so many years ago, will mean nothing. You will be mine, Sarah."

Sarah hesitated. That was a steep price, she knew. She thought to bargain, but the dinghy was perhaps only minutes from the shore. _The Land of Death_, Jareth had called it. She wasn't ready to die. And surely Jareth would be kind to her? Or maybe she was just being hopeful because they were connected through the red thread.

Sarah licked her lips. "But—"

"No bargaining," Jareth snapped. His face didn't give away any of his thoughts. His eyes were half-lidded, watching her. He held out a hand, made a gesture with his fingers, and Sarah felt a small breeze caress her cheeks and move through her hair. "It is a simple deal: to keep your life from Death, you give it to me."

"I…would go with you…"

"Yes."

"To the Underground."

"Yes, after I reclaim you from Death." Jareth glanced over his shoulder. "Once the dinghy touches land, the time for deals is over, Sarah."

Sarah felt a spark of panic. She looked into Jareth's eyes and her heart pounded with fear, but she said, softly, "I wish for you to save my life."

"Will you be mine?"

Sarah swallowed, but her throat felt like it was lined with desert sand. She said, huskily, "Yes."

Jareth smiled.

* * *

Author's Notes: Whew! This part ended up being much longer in length than the previous ones, so there will be a part 4, and a part 5 that will serve as an epilogue. :) Anyway, sorry for the delay. Blahblahblah-real-life-issues-blahblahblah. Anyway, I am editing part 4 as we speak. :)

**Please review!** All suggestions/comments/questions welcome and I always reply. Did you expect this outcome or did I surprise you? What are your thoughts on the deal between Jareth and Sarah? Any predictions for the future? :) Hope you're enjoying this little tale so far!

* * *

_Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the original Labyrinth. This is just a little bit of fiction done for pleasure and non-profit. I only lay claim to my original characters/ideas. This fanfic should not appear anywhere besides places I have put it. Thank you._


	4. Part Four

**The Red Thread – Part Four**

The dinghy glided the last few feet across the water and gently bumped against the shore. There was a very small spit of black-and-white sanded beach that swept back a few yards before meeting the forest line. The place was unearthly quiet; Sarah didn't hear any animals. The only sound was the tiny splashing noises from the dinghy moving in the water, and her own breathing.

Jareth got out of the boat with a few graceful movements, then held out a hand for her. Now that she had pledged herself to the Goblin King, he seemed…different. Enlivened, challenging, and he kept regarding her with an almost amused expression. What had he said? She would regret the decision, and while Sarah shivered when she thought about being with the Goblin King—possibly _forever_—she couldn't see how that would be worse than being _dead_. She was only twenty-eight, for god's sake! Her life had barely begun!

She would miss her family, particularly Toby…

_No, don't think about that now, _she told herself, firmly. _One thing at a time._ Yeah, like getting through Death's domain first. As her foot touched the sandy beach, she felt like pinching herself to make sure this was really happening. She was going to walk through the Land of Death. Holy crap, _she was dead_.

Jareth tugged her towards the forest line, causing Sarah to come out of her thoughts. She followed him, studying his broad back. This man was going to be her…what? Ruler? There hadn't been any talk about marriage or love; saying a string connected them was all well and good, and having a book that hinted at love was convenient, but it didn't _prove _anything.

_Although he is going to face Death with you—for you, _Sarah reminded herself.

The forest was dank and smelled like moldy decay. Sarah didn't like the place and kept close to Jareth. Low-hanging branches slapped in her face. A few times she thought she heard rustling, but when she looked, there was no one. Jareth's expression was set in grim determination and he walked quickly enough that Sarah had to quicken her pace to keep up with his longer legs. Yet, she didn't tell him to slow down. There was something about this daring Jareth she liked. He looked like a knight ready for battle—a knight in dark armor.

Jareth seemed to know where he was going, for her led her confidently. As they pushed through the brush, the trees began to change subtly. Before, they had been thick and green like jungle trees, but now they changed into the woody kinds she was familiar with. To her surprise, many of these trees were blooming with beautiful, delicate white-gold flowers and a few had heavy fruits that looked like apples or plums. Once, as they passed by a particularly radiant plum tree, she lifted a hand to snag a fruit from a low hanging branch.

Suddenly, Jareth wrenched her away, causing her shoulder to jerk in its socket painfully.

"Don't touch it!" he snapped. "Have you forgotten your entire dreamer's knowledge, Sarah? You cannot eat anything here or you'll stay forever and _nothing _I do will free you."

"I…it was just so pretty."

"Just like a certain peach?" Jareth answered, amused, as he started walking again.

Sarah's back stiffened, but she trotted to keep up. "That's different. You purposefully gave me that peach to poison me! You probably made it perfect looking to tempt me!"

"And what do you think these are?" Jareth shook his head, sighing. "The food of the dead is beautiful, perfect, but flavorless to the living—and poisonous in its own way."

"I thought I was dead?"

"You are still a journeying soul," Jareth answered, off-handed. His eyes were fixated in front of him. He seemed to be looking for something. "I can touch you, after all. If you had truly entered death, entered your final resting place, I wouldn't be able to help you. Our connection makes you…special." Suddenly, he pointed. "There!"

Sarah glanced where he was pointing, but it looked like more forest to her. However, Jareth walked through the bushes and dragged her along. On the other side was the mouth of a cave. Sarah looked into its black maw and shuddered.

"Do we have to go down there?" she asked, nervously, because Jareth had stopped in front of the cave.

"Yes. Beneath the ground is the Underworld."

Sarah did not want to follow him, but he continued forward and she didn't want to be left behind. The cave looked ominous; it smelled dank and moldy, but beyond that there was a smell of a decay that hung heavy on the air and, when she inhaled, the stench stuck in her throat, cloyingly. She decided she detested this cave, its winding corridors, the isolation of it, the smell of it.

The cave wasn't dark, at least. If it had been, she wouldn't've been able to stand it. Instead, little flecks of mica in the stone walls glowed with an eerie but beautiful white light. It gave just enough illumination to dimly light their way.

However, Jareth seemed to know where he was going. The cave constantly sloped downward and they kept trudging deeper into the cave, and into the very bowels of earth. The cave narrowed to single-file and Sarah walked behind Jareth, keeping a hand on his arm. He walked with a long, confident gait and kept alert for what Sarah wasn't sure, but she figured if it found them, they would be in trouble.

Suddenly, the cave opened up and they were in a giant chamber, at least a football field in length. The walls and ceiling still had the glowing flecks, although the light was even dimmer here, swallowed by the great expanse of the room. At the center of the chamber was an abyss that spanned its entire width. On their side, lined up, were…spirits.

There was no other word for the people-shaped entities made of white light. Features were visible in a vague sort of way, obscured by all that glowing mass. They were spirits in the truest sense of the word, the kind Sarah had always imagined, and they were standing in a single file as if waiting for a ride in Disneyland.

As she and Jareth neared them, she noticed they looked tired. Their forms were hunched over, some seemed to be shivering. Then, to her horror, she watched as the one at the front of the line looked into the abyss, sighed—and jumped. Sarah gasped as the glowing entity disappeared. Suddenly, she didn't want to go near that abyss. She stopped and Jareth took a step or two forward before looking back with a raised eyebrow. He followed her gaze to the spirits and said, "Sarah, this is the land of the dead, and they're on the last leg of their journey."

"No…" Sarah shook her head as the next spirit looked down the abyss, wailed, and jumped. "No, don't make me, Jareth."

"_Make _you? Foolish child, you _asked _me to save you." Jareth sighed. "One way or another, you will be going down there. However, I suppose you can rescind your request still and travel this way as those souls do." He nodded to the jumpers.

"I—I—" She could see just over the lip of the abyss, and everything was dark. Darkness, never ending darkness, and she had to _fall _into it.

"Sarah," Jareth said, touching her arm. She jumped. She hadn't noticed him moving back to her and the sudden touch tore her gaze away from the abyss and moved it to his face. What was it she saw in those depths? What was it the shadows hid from her? She wished there was more light so she could see his eyes more clearly, but for just a moment did she see an infinite sadness and something heartbreakingly tender? Did he realize her fear and feel for her? Was he being _gentle _with her? Jareth had been rather brisk and business-like since she'd struck this deal. She'd assumed it was because he'd gotten what he wanted—her. What if he was afraid of Death's domain, as well? Or maybe he was afraid _for _her?

Sarah heard another soft wail and looked back at the abyss. The line never seemed to shrink; for every person that jumped, someone took their place at the back of the line. She said, half to herself, "There's no guarantee that if I go down there I'll come back out."

"There's no guarantees when it comes to life—or death."

_How very profound, _Sarah thought. It was funny how unpredictable her emotions were; they swept the gambit of fear, amusement, uncertainty, anger. But, at that moment, she couldn't help but think about her life—her very, in the end, ordinary life. One spark, one moment of adventure had changed her forever, but she'd gone back to the ordinary. She'd even had a very ordinary death.

"What a waste," Sarah muttered.

"Excuse me?"

"I was just…thinking. Dead from a car crash, how very uninspiring. At one time I imagined adventuring the jungles of the Amazon or killing dragons. I suppose dragons exist?"

Jareth's expression turned amusingly enigmatic. _Ahuh, I bet they do, _Sarah thought, grinning. But, her grin quickly faded and she glanced at the abyss again. "I guess I should thank you for taking my little brother. If you hadn't sauntered into my life, I would be just another soul. No chances."

Jareth sighed, looking pained. "Ah, Precious, what exactly do you want me to say? I can tell you what I'm sure has crossed both our minds—that if you had taken my final gift, this day would have been avoided."

Sarah frowned. "It wouldn't have been much of a life for me—or you. I mean, I was fifteen, a total brat. I'd've been hellish to live with, Jareth, and totally naïve in everything that counted—in _life, _before you think anything else." She added this last because Jareth's eyebrows rose suggestively. Right now was _not _the time to think about _that_. Sure, she had imagined what life would have been like with him if she had taken the crystal at the end. _Just love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave_. She'd have been lying if she'd said it hadn't been tempting. How many women could say they were wooed by a magical being? A man so handsome and yet otherworldly that he changed the word "beautiful" into something…more?

Sarah realized something and said, "_Final _gift? What other gift did you give me?"

"Ah, what did I not give you?" Jareth said. It was a presumptuous statement and Sarah let her expression show that, but Jareth didn't rise to the bait and simply continued, "Besides the songs, the seductions, the adventure, the _magic_, what else did I give you, indeed? I was thinking of _this_…" He raised his hand, his forefinger and thumb pinched the red thread as if offering it to her. Once again, they were tied together and once again Sarah felt brief annoyance that the thread seemed to appear whenever Jareth wanted to make a point, and yet it rarely appeared for _her_. Jareth added, softly, "I have never let myself be tied thusly before."

"Anyone ever tried to 'tie you'?" Sarah snapped, still annoyed by this obvious manipulation—and damn, it was working because her heartstrings were tugging. She almost wanted to shout at Jareth "what do you want from me?" She doubted it was anything as simple as the adult relations she had imagined as a horny teenager, but she couldn't bring herself to ask the question. She was a coward, afraid of the answer, especially now that she had given herself to the Goblin King.

"No," Jareth said, shrugging. He didn't seem bothered by the fact. "This does not happen often."

"Let's get going." Sarah wasn't sure she liked where this conversation was going, and she'd made her decision. She'd made her decision on the banks of this strange island where nothing seemed to be really alive. _For my life, _she reminded herself.

Jareth inclined his head and they walked to the edge of the abyss. Sarah's heart pounded harder and harder with every step she took and when she looked over the edge, she felt faint. Blackness—just unending blackness. It terrified her.

As if to punctuate her fear, she heard another soft wail as another spirit launched itself down the abyss.

Her feet felt like lead. _I don't think I can do it, _she thought.

Jareth gripped her hand and said, "Close your eyes, Sarah. You will fall, but not to your death."

_Oh, that's almost funny, _Sarah thought, but she closed her eyes as he suggested. He tugged her hand forward and she hesitated for a brief moment before following him. One second she was on firm, solid ground and the next her feet came into contact with—nothing. She floated for a brief moment as time seemed to hold still—and then she was plunging down. The air was cold against her face and her fear was like a rock in her throat, keeping her from screaming like she really wanted to. Oh, but she felt that scream in her chest like a bird beating its wings against its cage.

Jareth, thankfully, did not release his hold from her and then, to her surprise, he pulled her close. Or maybe he pulled himself closer to her. Regardless, he wrapped his arms around her and held her, almost making a protective guard against her and the darkness. Sarah pushed her face against his chest, shuddering from the fear of falling in total darkness. She couldn't see his face; even his golden hair was obscured by the abyss. But she could smell his skin when she pressed her face to his neck, where the low cut off his shirt let her feel his flesh against her cheek. He smelled like wood smoke and spice. She calmed a little by his gentleness.

"The ground," Jareth warned and a moment later they touched down gently. She suspected his magic was to thank for that. The ground felt deliciously firm and wonderful under her feet. Her knees were wobbly like jelly and she nearly toppled over, but Jareth kept an arm around her shoulders and held her up until her heart stopped beating so hard and she was able to firmly stand again. Then she looked around.

They were in a grand room. The walls were made of stone, but decorated with odd tapestries and paintings that were alive. She watched as a medieval-style tapestry of a deer hunt actually played out, the threads that made up the hunting party galloped through the forest, the trees flashing by as they moved, chasing a deer made of chestnut-colored threads. She turned away finally, noting the rich red rugs laid out on the cold, marble floors. On the ceiling was a huge chandelier made of semi-precious jewels and flickering candles. The light shined through the gems, casting a multicolored light that engulfed the room and gave it a magical atmosphere. At the center of the room was a dais draped in the same types of rugs with golden flowers embroidered along it. A black throne sat on the dais and seated on it was a tall, thin person draped in expensive silks. The person stood, the robes obscuring any features that would have given away a gender, and this person wore a strange hat. It swept out on either side like stubby wings and rose from the middle in a square shape. Attached to it was a veil that came down and obscured the face, tying to the color. It was tight enough against the person's face that she saw the definition of a nose and lips, and the ridges of eyes, but otherwise the person was undefined, faceless.

"Death," Jareth said, bowing low. He cast Sarah a glance that indicated she should follow suit, so she bowed just as low as the Goblin King. Jareth gave her a brief nod, but the expression also said: _Don't say anything._

"_Why are you here?" _

Sarah gasped, for the voice had come from her mind, and she had not seen the definition of the lips move behind the mask. The mind-voice was also genderless, she could only think of the robed figure as Death. It was strangely disconcerting, and the tall, thin visage—for Death was almost eight feet—was almost frightening. Staring at that veil, Sarah definitely felt intimidated. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest again. How annoying to still contend with such feelings, even though she was dead. She wondered if those spirits' hearts had raced before they'd jumped into the abyss.

"A favor," Jareth answered.

Death moved slightly and Sarah felt the figure's regard heavy on her. She flushed, looking away, unable to watch Death watch her. Finally, she heard the mind-voice say: _"This soul has died, it is mine."_

"No," Jareth said, "she has given herself to me."

"_Love." _The mind-voice sounded contemptuous. _"Love does not last in my domain. Promises of the flesh do not last."_

Jareth didn't answer, he merely raised his hand and the red thread tangled around his fingers, clearly tied to his wrist and Sarah's. The mind-voice hissed angrily, but when it spoke, it sounded almost amused.

"_How annoying." _A pause, then, _"But ultimately useless. So she pledged her soul to you?"_

_I did? Oh shit, _Sarah thought, the gravity of what that meant sinking in, but she had no chance to think further about it, because Jareth nodded and said, "She is _mine_."

He looked—amazing. Battle-ready, unflinching. His hair moved in an unseen and unfelt wind, his eyes were sparking with magic, and he stood tall and dignified against Death. Jareth was a king.

"_You received the Underground to steward, I received Death," _the mind-voice admonished, as if reminding an errant child of a lesson, _"and in the end all of the Aboveground's peoples are mine. Your claim means only a test for her, and she will fail."_

Before Sarah could say anything to that, Death was suddenly in front of her, so quickly she hadn't seen him move. From one moment to the next, he simply stood there. Sarah cried out, falling back a step before she could stop herself. She cringed in front of Death, and she wasn't ashamed to admit it.

Death simply regarded her. She stared at that faceless veil, the ridges where the eyebrows would be. With a gloved hand, Death gripped her chin and tipped her face up. Sarah's skin crawled with the knowledge that Death was touching her, but she didn't struggle. From the corner of her eye, she saw Jareth stiffen. His expression was an unhappy one, as if he wanted to rip her away but knew he could not.

"_What say you, little mortal?" _the mind-voice cooed. _"Would you like to take a test, give your soul to him, when you could come into my warm embrace for all eternity?"_

A warmth came over Sarah, like she had jumped into a heated pool. She kept staring at Death, but suddenly she didn't feel frightened anymore. A great, immeasurable affection surrounded her and she felt content. She knew that going with Death would not be horrible but a peaceful respite; she would be loved, cherished, watched like a precious stone. Life was lonely, long, and filled with strife, but she would finally get her just rewards. She would be forever beloved in Death's embrace, never worrying about the concerns the living had to contend with every day. Work? Bills? Pain? Hate? The needs of the flesh? It all seemed so far away and inconsequential. Even things like joy and love seemed tiring. She always sought those fleeting feelings; she worked hard for a few seconds of happiness. What was the point of that? Why did she want to go back to life?

Sarah opened her mouth. Almost, almost she told Death to take her, to embrace her, to never let her go. Almost the words slipped past her lips. But, at the last moment, she felt a vicious tug at her wrist that sent a bolt of white-hot pain from her hand up her arm and to her heart like a flaming dart. She gasped, the spell broken. She jerked out of Death's grip and looked down to see the red thread tied around her wrist. She followed it to its end, tied to the Goblin King. Jareth was clutching some of it. He'd tugged the string.

She turned back to Death. Maybe Death was wonderful, a much needed rest at the end of a long journey, but she wasn't ready for it. She stood straight, her back stiff, and said, "I gave a promise to the Goblin King, so that I could live again."

The mind-voice sighed. _"Very well, then you must be tested."_

"Why?" Sarah asked, nervously, before she could stop herself.

"_Because you are dead and you should be mine," _the mind-voice said. _"I give respite, you ask for the affrays of life. The journey from Death is never an easy one, and if you want to transfer your soul away from my embrace to this Other then you must prove yourself worthy of such a thing. Death does not give way easily. If you pass, then you will never know my comfort. Are you prepared to potentially never walk the path of your brothers and sisters?"_

Sarah shivered at the thought. She remembered how wonderful it had felt to be touched by Death. The seduction of it had been unlike anything she'd ever felt before—beyond love, beyond ecstasy, beyond desire. Could she willingly give that up? And for what? So her soul would become the Goblin King's? What did that mean?

Sarah hesitated, and she saw Jareth stiffen. His eyes glowed like embers, watching her. She stared back and thought about the ballroom dance, the dinghy, their shared memories and words. She thought about her life: her beloved brother, about to start middle school, her loving family; her hard-earned knowledge; her friends; her experiences. She thought about the beauty she'd witnessed, the triumph of playing Ophelia on stage, the biting cold of the winters and the sticky humidity of the summers. She remembered the beach, feeling gritty sand between her toes, the cool and salty ocean, and the feel of the rolling waves against her skin.

The truth of the matter was that Sarah Williams would always choose life. At that moment, she felt infinitely old, mature beyond her years. That part of her whispered in her mind: _Maybe this is why the Goblin King was drawn to you enough to sing for you and dance with you._

Sarah said, "I choose life."

The masked face nodded once and then the world went black.

* * *

**Author's Comments: **Wow, this story is getting longer than I initially anticipated. I'm still trying to make it as I outlined it, which is five parts and an epilogue. However, by the time I finish a chapter I'm always surprised at the word count. I hope you're enjoying it instead of wondering when it's going to end. :) Death makes an appearance! And I would have loved to explore the island further, but Jareth had a specific goal in mind - save Sarah. I might write up an "Extras" tidbit that shows some stuff I ended up not using, we'll see. Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed Death's appearance. I find him/her/it a fascinating personification, and while I love Terry Pratchett's Death, I always feel Death should be more terrifyingly beautiful than anything else. :)

I'm glad to see that most of you were surprised by the last chapter. I actually began this story with a very vague idea of what I wanted to accomplish but now I am more solidified in what's going to happen. A few shout-outs:

Tomoe-gozen52: Yeah, I would have loved to explore that world more, but it was not to be.

FelineGrace: Hope this update will keep me out of the land of Death. ;)

Curly-kitty: At the risk of sounding callous, I'm pleased you screamed in frustration. Means my writing is improving! :)

Pinkflora: Jareth has proven in the past that it's dangerous to ask for wishes from him, and here Sarah is doing the same thing again! At the risk of being a little spoiler-ish, I don't see him as vindictive, but I don't see him as a fluffy Jareth either. Sarah may very well regret her choice.

Simply01: Glad you like it!

Artseblis: Thank you! Although I don't think Jareth could ever be _innocent_. :P

Merlinswit: Don't blame me, blame my muse! She's a devious creature! She leads me to believe a story will be short and then keeps plying me with ideas that keep it going longer than intended! And thanks for thinking of getting Jareth photos for me. I will look forward to it. What can I say? There's few characters that make me squee like the Goblin King can. XD

BTW, I just realized my last update was two weeks-or-so again. My gosh, time flies! I actually started a new job and am trying to prepare for it...while writing fanfictions and editing my original work...so that's the reason for any delays. I will try my best to get the next chapter up this week.

**Please review!** All suggestions/questions/comments welcome and cherished! I love seeing what people think about my writing (and in fact the immediacy of posting writing here is a wonderful tool to help me perfect my craft), whether good or bad. What do you think about Death? About Sarah's choices? About Jareth? Leave a little comment in the box! :)

* * *

_Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing regarding the Labyrinth, Jareth, and Sarah. These are characters originally from the movie. I only lay claim to my own, original characters. This is a not-for-profit story. Please do not take it and post it or copy it anywhere else without my express permission beforehand. Thank you._


	5. Part Five

**The Red Thread – Part Five**

The world came back to Sarah suddenly, as if she'd opened her eyes. She thought, _I'm getting sick of this…_ and when her gaze focused, she found herself in a long, skinny hallway. She was standing, across from her was Death. The floors and wall were made of stone, and the only decoration were mirrors on the walls. Sarah glanced into the one closest to her and saw herself, tired and drawn, but since the mirrors had been positioned so they faced each other, the reflections were mirrors within mirrors, spanning into infinity. She saw herself reflected again and again. It was disquieting and she looked away.

"Where am I?" she asked, not looking at Death but at the floor. She didn't like seeing Death with the faceless veil and the long robes. She didn't like feeling Death's gaze on her.

"_Between time."_

"Where's Jareth?"

"_Back in the chamber. He can wait, you have other things to occupy you."_

"The test," Sarah said.

"_Yes." _Sarah glanced up to see Death indicate the mirrors. Her eyes dropped back to her hands and she saw the red string tied around her wrist for an instant. When she blinked, it was gone. _"You and he claim that thread connects both of you…enough so that you can slip away as if you were not mortal. Very well, then prove this connection to me."_

Sarah looked up, startled. The veil indicated nothing of what Death meant. Sarah said, "How?"

"_The connection was wrought in an instant, and you will have felt it. Choose that moment then and prove your tie to him."_

"What? What do you mean?" Sarah asked.

Something in the corner of her eye moved and she jerked to the side, startled. The mirrors were moving, the reflections in them fading. She looked back to question Death further, but found she was alone. With a grunt of frustration, she turned back to the mirror next to her and watched as an image formed. To her surprise, she saw herself coming to Ludo's rescue. A moment in the Labyrinth, caught like a fly in amber, with perfect precision and color. The crispness of the image was better than memory. She wondered if this was that moment frozen in time.

She walked the long hallway. Each mirror had a different moment affixed in it. She looked, fascinated, feeling a little like a patron in some magical museum of art. She saw herself at fifteen in that poet's shirt and vest ensemble she loved so much, holding her hand out to receive the peach Hoggle offered. She saw the look of distaste on her face as Hoggle sprayed another fairy. She saw the exhilarated fear as she ran away from the Cleaners. There she was, again and again, and looking at this younger self she was struck by just how _innocent _and _young _she looked. Years of living had taken away the naïveté from her eyes, or so she thought.

However, what fascinated her more than her own visage—or any of her friends—was the Goblin King. She had been too engrossed in her quest to really pay attention to him, to the subtle expressions he wore. She stared at his face when he had sent the Cleaners after her. Was that regret she saw? And what else? Amusement, worry, indecision? How could one face manage to convey so much to her?

In another, she was shocked to see Jareth leaning over her sleeping form, a hand outstretched for the peach that she still clutched. She didn't remember that…and yet after she stared at the mirror for a very long time, she thought she could _almost _remember something. A voice whispered in her ear: _"Dream beautiful dreams about me, Precious…"_

Oh boy…she turned away. Well, that mirror answered one thing: these reflections were not moments from her mind but showed both sides. Death was everywhere, after all.

Okay, she was here for a purpose. What was it? She replayed Death's words again in her mind. _The connection was wrought in an instant_—he'd been talking about the thread. _Choose that moment and prove your tie to him_—what did that mean? She had to choose the moment the connection was created? That seemed way too easy, after all Jareth had already told her when that connection had happened: in the ballroom.

Well, Sarah intended to pass this test. Feeling the same determination as she had when she was fifteen and traipsing through the Labyrinth, Sarah began walking down the hallway looking at all the mirrors, searching for one particular memory. She felt so alive! How she'd missed the days of adventuring! Although her time in the Labyrinth had been so short, it had been some of the best moments in her life—moments she had found her _worth, _challenged herself, had been scared and exhilarated and angry and determined all at the same time. She felt like that again and oh, how she'd missed it.

Finally, Sarah stopped in front of a mirror. Ah yes, she recognized that scene. She saw herself caught in that moment, in that damn princess dress which had made her feel…out of place. Her hair teased up until it was bigger than her head. Now, it seemed almost silly, like a child playing dress up; back then she didn't notice the clothes as much as everything else. The jesters and court people particularly disturbed her.

Sarah reached out and touched the mirror and the scene came alive, like someone pressing play on a VCR. It was odd watching the scene from some omnipresent third person; she saw things that jogged her memory, like the low-hanging pearls from the chandeliers. She remembered once they had brushed her cheek and she had jumped. And then—yes, even in the mirror she saw the moment she had seen the Goblin King. She'd walked forward, pulled by an invisible force, unable to look away. Again he was hiding his face behind a mask. Why did he do that so often with her? And then he'd lowered the mask and their eyes had met…

"Oh god," Sarah whispered, because now she was viewing it with the wisdom of hindsight and thirteen extra years. At fifteen, she'd been transfixed by that gaze, staring with her mouth slightly open and her eyes wide, unable to process the cacophony of emotions and thoughts in her mind. Now, she _recognized _that look in the Goblin King's face.

_What the girl didn't know…_

"I didn't know," Sarah murmured.

But, as she watched the scene, something tugged at her mind. _This isn't right, _she thought. Death had said she needed to find the moment the connection had been forged and despite Jareth saying it was that instance he saw her in the ballroom—she could swear she saw love in his eyes already. And she had been drawn to him, unable to pull away…as if they had been connected.

She saw him smile slightly as he watched her and shook her head. _Smug bastard, even in love, _she thought. It was very surreal to remind herself that the Goblin King was looking at _her _with that look on his face. But, the more she watched the mirror, the more she had to admit this just wasn't right.

Just to be sure, she watched the whole memory. The singing—she remembered that haunting voice—his voice—in her mind. And then when she had finally caught up to him, or more like he finally appeared in front of her, and they had danced he had sung _to her_. She shook her head and muttered, "A little less smugness, Goblin King, and I think you would have won." So intense, they were both so intense as they danced; she felt her girlish emotions again watching that scene and felt her cheeks flame with the knowledge of that first womanly realization she'd had in his arms.

_Forever may not be long enough…_

And then Sarah had noticed everyone was laughing at her, as if they knew something she didn't. Then the clock had struck and she'd glanced at Jareth to see triumph flare in his eyes, along with the ever-present conceit. Anger and fear had blossomed in her. _Damn him, _she had thought. _I won't be caught! _She'd pushed away…

Sarah kept watching the mirror because now she noticed something she'd never seen before. She had been too preoccupied with _running away_ to see the look on the Goblin King's face when she tore out of his arms.

Surprise, and the conceit was gone, and…pain.

Sarah jerked away from the mirror and the scene faded to black before reappearing as it had before she had touched the surface: just a frozen moment of her in the princess gown entering the ballroom.

Sarah breathed heavily, as if she had been running a marathon. She shuddered, haunted by the Goblin King's expression. Oh, they had a lot to talk about if she passed this test.

Thinking about the test helped bring her back to her purpose. With slightly shaking hands, Sarah pressed her palms to her cheeks and pressed her fingers to her temples. _Think Sarah, think! _She had always believed in following her gut—it had helped her win back Toby, after all. Her gut was saying the ballroom wasn't it; the connection hadn't been forged there.

_Okay, so when? _She thought, looking to either side of her at the long hallway with its dozens of mirrors. Which memory showed the right moment in time?

She began wandering aimlessly through the hallway, glancing at mirrors, trying to decide. Perhaps because her mind was on the past, she remembered all the other times she tried to figure out which way she was going. Marking the cobblestones with her lipstick had been, in her opinion, pure brilliance…too bad the Labyrinth had been one step ahead of her.

She stopped in front of a mirror that showed her crouching against the wall, her head in her hands, and a tiny worm next to her. Without thinking, Sarah reached out and touched the mirror's surface.

"_Things are not always what they seem," _the worm had said.

That wall trick had been mind-bending and annoying, and then Sarah was able to hear what the worm said when she had left. She moved away from the mirror, angrily. "I could have gone _straight to the castle?_" She grumbled, thirteen years later. "I forgot how annoyingly _unfair _that place was."

However, the worm made a good point. Sometimes things weren't always what they seemed. Actually, the denizens of the Labyrinth had usually given her good advice. What was it the Wiseman had said? _"The way forward is sometimes the way back."_

Sarah walked down the hallway again, her mind working quickly, her eyes scanning the mirrors…looking for something, although she wasn't sure what.

"_Things are not always what they seem."_

"_The way forward is sometimes the way back."_

"_Things are not always what they seem."_

Sarah stopped in front of a mirror that showed her fifteen year old self looking over the Labyrinth for the first time, from a cliff close by. The wind had been a hot desert wind. Her mind was already remembering. Sarah reached out and touched the mirror, watching the memory unfold in front of her eyes, even as it unfolded in her own mind.

She had felt so isolated, lonely, and afraid on that cliff looking at the majestic and alien world of the Labyrinth span out before her. _Can I really do this? _She wondered, and as if to mimic her thoughts, behind her she had heard that voice:

"_Do you still want to do this?" _

In the mirror, she saw her bedroom disappear, in the blink of an eye, and only Jareth remained in that dramatic, high-collared cloak and dark armor ensemble. The wind whipped around him much more than her, accentuating his magical otherworldliness.

She watched her fifteen year old self shore up her bravery. She turned and faced the Goblin King. _"Is that the Castle Beyond the Goblin City?"_

Damn Jareth, he looked magnificent. _"Turn back Sarah, turn back before it's too late."_

Sarah had always been contrary—there was that part of her still. Hearing the Goblin King tell her to turn back had had the opposite impact. She'd told him she couldn't.

"_What a pity…"_

Sarah gasped as she watched the mirror memory. She had turned her back on the Goblin King but now she watched him walk up to her, to coo in her ear, _"It's further than you think." _But, as he approached her, he had been looking at her and…there it was, not as intensely as in the ballroom, to be sure, but there was definitely fascination. Oh, how much she'd missed thirteen years ago!

She watched her past self say, _"Well, come on feet," _after Jareth had disappeared and she expected the memory to end there, but the mirror continued to show her that cliff top with the clock still stuck in the sand. After a few moments, when the minute hand had moved once, Jareth reappeared and watched Sarah moving across the desert landscape to the Labyrinth.

He sighed, pressing his fingers to his forehead and shook his head. _"Such a pity," _he said to himself. When he looked up again, Sarah saw that brief flash of _it_ in his eyes, that hopeful yearning and fascination. Watching this private moment, her heart tugged, as if someone pulled at it with a leash.

Jareth pressed his hand to the clock and with a flash of glitter, both he and the clock disappeared. The mirror went black, and Sarah turned away before it "rewound" itself to the frozen moment it had shown before.

She looked down at her wrist and saw the red string tied to it, going off down the hallway. She wondered if she followed it would it go through the wall? Would it lead her back to Jareth?

"_Things are not always what they seem."_

The worm had said that, but she'd never realized just how much she hadn't perceived as her fifteen year old self. She had seen a side of Jareth he had purposefully tried to hide from her; he'd only shown her brief glances, probably against his will, and she'd been too young to realize what those feelings in his mismatched eyes had meant.

Oh yes, the book had told her. The damn book, which she'd read cover-to-cover just like she'd read the Grimm's Fairytales. And just like everything the brothers Grimm had written, she hadn't really believed a word of it. Not even when she was journeying through the Labyrinth had she believed what was in front of her eyes.

Well, she was beginning to believe now.

"_Sometimes the way forward is the way back." _Yes indeed, she had to witness memories of the past if she wanted a future, but she had her answer for Death. She squared her shoulders and said, loudly, "There! That's the moment when the connection was made!"

She pointed to the mirror she'd just touched. "When Jareth sent me on a quest knowing how I would change, how difficult it would be for me, because it was a journey within _myself _as much as it was a journey within the Labyrinth. And I, already awed by the Goblin King, accepted that journey for the love felt for my brother—and because I wanted to show the Goblin King I was his equal. _My power is as great as his_, and love is formed on equality."

It was a grandiose speech, and probably unnecessary. Surely Death knew that stuff already? But Sarah had just learned it—or maybe she'd always _known _but never _realized_.

She heard the soft sound of swishing silk and whirled to see Death behind her. It took all her willpower not to shudder and shy away from its obscured face and formless, robed body. It neared her, quietly; only the sound of its robes filled the hallway, for its footfalls made no sound. Sarah's heart pounded so hard that she felt light-headed. Death created a flight response in her, like a prey animal cornered by its predator.

Death said, _"My my, so wise all of a sudden…for a mortal."_

"I—I chose correctly, then?"

"_Yes. Shame, really," _Death said, its arms clasped behind its back. _"It means your soul is now his and can never be mine. You will never be mortal again. I do not take back what was taken from me."_

Well, for now, she was willing to call that a victory. She said, "So, I can leave? I don't have to die?"

"_Almost. You will be leaving here not as a journeying soul but as a living, breathing woman. The rules are slightly different," _Death said.

Sarah choked back a sob. Now that she was so close to the end of this, she felt such fatigue. She wanted to go _home, _curl up on her bed, and sleep for a week. She said, "Why? Why can't I just leave? What else must I do?"

"_Why, leaving is exactly what you must do," _Death said, and Sarah could have sworn it sounded amused. _"Leave my domain, Sarah, and you are free of me for all eternity. But, look back at what you have left behind…and any deals are off."_

Sarah opened her mouth to ask what Death meant by "look back" when she found herself facing Jareth. He seemed just as surprised to see her, and then raised an eyebrow. Sarah realized she must look foolish, standing there with her mouth open.

"Good to see you again, it's been a while," she murmured. It felt like hours, perhaps it had been hours she had wandered the hallway looking at old memories.

Jareth said, "You were gone for an instant. But…is it finished?"

"Yes." Sarah looked around the chamber. It was just an empty cave chamber now. The opulence was gone; Death was gone. She said, "Let's leave."

"Indeed, let's go home," Jareth said, smiling a rather smug smile.

"_Home"…my home's the Underground now, _Sarah thought, her pulse picking up speed at the thought. She had yearned for her apartment bed just a few minutes earlier, but that life was gone now. She had traded her soul for life.

There was an opening at the far side of the chamber and they took it. Jareth said, "The way will be longer now, since you are alive."

"You know what happened?" Sarah asked, alarmed. What would Jareth think about her realizing his feelings? About spying on moments when he thought no one watched him?

But, Jareth said, "I can feel that you're alive when before you felt…suspended, for lack of a better word. And I know that a live person must walk a difficult path to leave Death's domain. You'll see horrible things, Sarah."

"I'm ready." Sarah stiffened her spine and fell in step beside the Goblin King. She remembered what Death had said—don't look back—and carefully kept her gaze ahead, although she felt the skin between her shoulder blades crawl as if someone watched her. Instinctually, she wanted to glance over her shoulder, but she fought the urge.

_Come on feet, _she thought. One step at a time; she'd be out before she knew it.

She surreptitiously glanced at Jareth. She had a lot of questions to ask him, forefront on her mind was the past. _When did you realize you loved me? _But, other questions also clamored in her mind. _Now what? What will happen to me?_

Sarah opened her mouth, expecting to ask something, but instead she said, "This must have been a bother for you."

"What do you mean?" Jareth glanced at her.

"You never asked for any of this—to help me, I mean. Or anything from when we first met, really. I rather selfishly wished away my brother and suddenly it's like a domino effect, everything else kind of happened."

"Domino effect," Jareth murmured. "I'd rather see it as a dance."

A dance. Sarah couldn't help but smile at the image. Sometimes she was leading—and she could just imagine how annoyed Jareth had been about _that_—and sometimes he definitely led her, but they were always spinning and spinning around the ballroom waiting for the music to end.

"I'm grateful for your help," Sarah said. "I'll try not to regret my decision."

Jareth didn't look at her, but she saw a smile tugging at his lips. "Will you truthfully try?"

"Yes."

"And what if I truthfully try to be villainous? Will I get to hear 'that's so unfair!' once again?"

Sarah frowned, although she couldn't help but grin. "Are you _trying _to make me say it?"

"Perhaps."

"I'm a bit too old now."

"What a pity," Jareth said, pleasantly.

"But," Sarah added, "I will _think _it quite a lot."

Jareth paused, thoughtfully tapping his chin with his forefinger. "I suppose that is acceptable."

Sarah chuckled. "Does that mean I can destroy the Goblin City again? Or smash your crystal dreams with chairs?"

"I'd rather there was no dream smashing this time 'round," Jareth murmured, almost too softly for Sarah to hear.

Sarah felt a lump of emotion rise in her throat. Although the Goblin King's expression was very aloof and nonchalant, he wasn't looking at her and she suspected that was because he knew she'd see everything in his eyes—especially now that she knew what to look for. His voice certainly sounded wistful.

Unsure of what to say, Sarah reached out and grasped Jareth's hand. His glove was warm and soft. For a moment, she felt his arm tense with surprise, then his fingers wrapped around her hand.

They turned a corner and Sarah stopped. Jareth, still holding her hand, stopped as well. The room they had entered was horrific, and Sarah didn't want to go a step further. It narrowed so that they would have to walk single file, and the walls were clear, like glass. Floating behind those walls was black, oily smoke, except there were faces in that smoke with wide open mouths and they were _moaning_. The noise filled Sarah's head until she wanted to clamp her hands over her ears and scream to block it out. Such terrible moans, beyond pain and reason! As she watched, fixated by the horrible noise, the faces would sometimes press against the walls. There was never enough definition to them to see any features besides gaping dark pits for eyes and mouth. Sometimes, she saw vague shapes that looked like smoky hands also pressing against the walls, like they wanted to get out.

"What is this place?" Sarah gasped.

"Lost souls. They've had violent, painful deaths and can't rest easily," Jareth said. His expression was bleak, but determined. "They always yearn for company to share their pain. They'll try and pull you in with them, but you must resist."

"We have to walk through there?" Sarah whimpered.

"I'm afraid so, Precious. Just keep holding my hand." Jareth took the first step and then another. She definitely didn't want to let go of his hand, and it made walking into the hallway easier.

But it was as horrible as she imagined. Sarah whimpered pitifully as the moaning increased in volume, to the point that if Jareth had said anything, she wouldn't have heard him. The oily smokey masses reached for her, their half-formed arms coming out from the walls, their eyeless faces and huge gaping mouths yearning. She shied away, jerking back from one set of hands only to feel her body brushed with another set. She cried out, moving closer to Jareth until he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and drew her close, but even then they would reach and tug at her clothes.

Whenever they touched her, she felt a sucking feeling against her skin, like a vacuum cleaner was pressed to her. She batted the hands away and they would disintegrate when she touched them, only to reform a moment later.

_They want my life, _she thought, hysterically, her body filled with abject terror, petrified with it. She wouldn't have been able to move if it wasn't for Jareth, who continued herding her down the hallway with his gaze firmly fixed on the opposite side. Sarah was barely able to think clearly, and what she could devote to thinking beyond the horror of having grasping hands constantly reaching for her was reminding her that no matter what, she mustn't look back.

And then one of the spirits managed to come out of the wall as a column of dark smoke with vague, human features. In a way, it mimicked the spirits made of light, although this twisted soul had no light, only darkness. It blocked their way and Jareth said, "We must part and go around it."

"Don't let me go, Jareth."

"We can't walk through it, Precious. Just three quick steps and _do not look it in the eye_." Jareth squeezed her and said, "Be brave."

_Brave Sarah, who faced the Goblin King, _Sarah thought, lifting her chin and staring at the point just beyond the spirit. She could be brave, she'd always managed to be brave even when she thought she'd collapse from fear.

They parted and moved around the spirit. Sarah slapped at the hands reaching for her. _Of course they wouldn't try this with the Goblin King, _Sarah thought, bitterly. None of the spirits reached for Jareth and he easily walked around the spirit.

Well, three steps wasn't much. She decided to count them.

_One…_

A particularly vicious spirit jumped forward from the wall, as if it was trying to slide into home plate. Its cold, oily hand grasped her wrist and she immediately felt that horrible sucking feeling that tugged at her skin—and her heart. Sarah bit back a cry and wrenched her wrist free, while trying to keep from looking at the column of smoke, with its slightly human features, that stood to her left.

_Two…_

And then she saw movement from the corner of her eye and a leathery, dry voice said, _"Saaaaaaraaaaah…"_

No spirit had spoken before, and the voice was so inhuman that it caused shudders to run up and down her back. Before Sarah could stop herself, she looked up and met the spirit's eyeless gaze. It stared at her for a moment, and then its smoky face broke apart in a grin, except it had no teeth, just a black pit for a mouth.

It lunged at her, engulfing her in darkness, and she foolishly screamed. Immediately, the smoke filled her lungs. It tasted bitter and she coughed, choking, unable to breathe because the spirit was all around her and inside her lungs, plugging her nose.

_Oh god, I'm going to die, _Sarah thought, clawing at her neck in desperation. Of course, that was useless; there were no hands to grab, no body to fight against. Her head felt light, like it was trying to detach from her body and float away. Her vision was dark, with darker spots dancing across it. She was losing consciousness.

Suddenly, a pinprick of light broke through the blackness and then flared until it hurt her eyes and she had to raise a hand to block it. The smoke dissipated; she took a shuddering breath, then began to cough as blessed air filled her lungs. Jareth knelt next to her with a glowing crystal in his hand and feral expression on his face.

Sarah shrank away from that horrible expression. Jareth had never looked so…_otherworldly_. His mismatched eyes glowed with magic, and they seemed tilted more than usual, his eyebrows arching up like wings. His golden hair whipped in an unfelt breeze, streaked with black. He was wearing the black armor outfit now. His thin lips were pulled away from his teeth in a snarl. His features seemed more angular.

Sarah looked away before she could stop herself.

"_NO_," Jareth warned, but it was too late. In the struggle, Sarah had been turned around. As she looked away—she looked back the dark hallway they had come. It was inhumanly dark, as if someone had hung a shadow in front of them, and in that blackness she saw a shape.

The world rumbled, Sarah felt the vibrations as the ground under her shook, but she was transfixed. The shape in the blackness was coming closer and there was a tiny glint. She squinted, trying to identify what it was, and then she realized: it was Death coming for her and he held a scythe made of flashing blue light.

"Run, Sarah!" Jareth yelled, pulling her to her feet. They began running down the hallway, ignoring the reaching hands now. She heard the sound of beating wings and knew it was Death. Could anyone outrun Death?

The hallway continued to stretch before them. Jareth made a gesture and a crystal appeared in his hand. He threw it before them. There was a flare of light, but when it faded away, nothing had changed.

Jareth cursed, then said, "Keep running. Don't stop!"

Sarah wasn't sure how much longer she could keep this pace up. Already, a hitch had formed in her side. She had done track and field back in high school, but since then besides the required amount of exercise to keep her figure, she hadn't done much in the way of physical activity. She'd always considered herself pretty fit, too.

She stumbled, gasping for breath, but managed to keep her feet and continue. Her breath was whistling through her mouth; her lungs were on fire. Unable to help herself, she glanced over her shoulder and gasped when she saw how close Death was. It still wore the shapeless robes, which now flared out around it like a net, and its hand grasped the flashing scythe. Sarah looked at its veiled face and wanted to cry.

It was so close, and Sarah couldn't help but watch as Death reached out a gloved hand.

Jareth grabbed her, helping her put on a burst of speed, but Sarah glanced back over her shoulder again to see Death reaching for her.

"There!" Jareth said, his voice growling with determination and Sarah saw a pinprick of light at the end of that dark hallway. Could that be the entrance? Were they close to the end of this nightmare? Hope made Sarah push her feet for one more burst of speed. The pinprick grew.

_Oh please, please! _She thought.

She heard an angry hiss behind her and glanced back once more to see Death even closer. It knew its prey was nearly free. It reached again, but this time instead of reaching for her, it moved towards Sarah and Jareth's clasping hands. Sarah cried out in dismay when she saw that the red string that tied them was trailing a little behind them. It was just close enough to Death for it to hook a finger over the string.

Sarah sobbed, "No!" But, of course, she couldn't stop it. With a vicious yank, Death broke through the thread.

Sarah stumbled, screaming as a pain filled her heart. Jareth gasped, too, and turned to her with the saddest look in his eyes. "Sarah," he said in that way she remembered from thirteen years ago.

She opened her mouth to say something to him just as the pinprick of light flared into a brilliance so bright that it washed over them. She heard the flapping of wings all around her, but she couldn't see anything and finally she had to close her eyes against the brightness. The moment she did, Sarah began to fall. She screamed Jareth's name once, and then blissfully, she fainted.

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**Author's Note:** Jeez this chapter is long. I pounded it out without as much editing as I had hoped, so I am sorry for any mistakes. You may recognize some themes from Greek mythology (and a few others) here, and yeah, they're intentional. I am a huge fan of mythology. :) I realized that in this story a lot of chapters seem to end with Sarah fainting/falling unconscious/etc. Oh well, poor thing, not to worry, there's only one chapter to go. :D

**Please review!** Let me know what you think. Liked the mirror scene? The hallway of restless spirits? Jareth and Sarah? I know a lot of this chapter was more of a "journey through the mind" for our dear heroine. I spent a whole lot of time re-watching certain scenes from _The Labyrinth_. I think I watched the ballroom scene five times and realized (or should I say re-realized?) just how much I love that scene in the movie. It might just be my fangirlishness for J/S, but I really think at times their expressions as they avoid each other say so much (particularly Jareth's). Made me squee all over again. XD

I will try to get the last chapter up as quickly as possible. Chances are good it will be this week. Hey, I managed to avoid work and pump out this one within a few days. XD

Bah, I nearly forgot...some quick shout-outs:

Pinkflora: lol, Death is tricksy and I think its REAL test was whether Sarah could get out of its domain. Everything else was just gravy.

Simply01, CatherineSobieski, TheraSerenity, hazlgrnLizzy: Thank you for the wonderful compliments!

tomoe-gozen52: Yes, what you say is very true. I do try to follow where the story leads, instead of vice versa. Writing fanfiction is a wonderful exercise in working on my own issues of style, characterization, etc. And I like a Jareth who would rather be smug than vindictive. ;)

To all of you that said you like my characterization of Jareth, thank you very much. What can I say? I think he's as his peak when he's acting like he did in the ballroom scene: smug, triumphant, with that oh-you-want-me swagger. Hopefully, if all works according to plan, there will be quite a bit of that in the next chapter. XD

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_Disclaimer: As always, I don't own anything in regards to the Labyrinth. This is just a not-for-profit bit of fun fanfiction. My only claim is to original characters created by me. Please don't take/repost/copy this fanfiction without my permission beforehand. Thank you._


	6. Epilogue

**The Red Thread – Epilogue**

_One year later…_

Sarah tipped her head back and looked at the night sky. The stars were shining, where they hadn't been bleached away by the full moon's light. It was an exact year since that fateful day she nearly died. In the end, she'd woken up in the hospital with a broken rib, a broken arm, various bruises and scrapes, whiplash, and a black eye. Recovery had been long, painful at times, but she had survived.

And she remembered. She just didn't fully understand. How had they escaped Death at the end? What had happened to Jareth? Why had she found herself back in her own world, her old life?

Lying in that hospital bed, wondering about her fate, wondering about whether she was even mortal anymore, Sarah had waited for the Goblin King to come and collect her.

He never appeared.

When she had gone back home, she had tried everything she could think of to call the Goblin King to her. She had chanted under her breath, _"I wish I could see the Goblin King right now!" _She had tried, _"I wish the Goblin King would appear in front of me right now!" _as well as other phrases. She'd sat in front of her vanity mirror and softly called his name—and Hoggle's, Ludo's, Sir Didymus's—until she felt pretty silly. In a final ditch effort, she'd thrown wide her arms in the middle of her living room and yelled, "I wish the goblins would come and take me away _right now!_"

Nothing.

As she sat in her living room, shocked and confused, she had come to this conclusion: the red thread had broken, her connection with Jareth was gone, he couldn't hear her. Maybe he didn't love her anymore, maybe the power had gone when the thread had broken, and so she couldn't call to him.

"Which really sucks, Jareth," she had muttered under her breath, pressing her palms to her eyes and resting her head in her hands, "because I was definitely beginning to love you!"

She wept then, because she had fallen in love with the Goblin King and she had promised not to regret being with him. Now she wouldn't even get to see if she could keep that promise. She wept because she felt the absence of the red thread. It was a loss that affected her deeply and vibrated through her body. She knew something was missing, she could _feel _its absence. There was a sense of loss.

That hadn't changed. Even now, one year later, when she focused she could still feel that absence inside her, like something had been ripped out. However, Sarah had always been adaptive—a survivor. If her fate was to live Aboveground, so be it. She had been happy before the car crash, why not afterwards? So what if her friends noticed she liked her own company more now? She had to find equilibrium, a way to deal with the knowledge of her loss and continue living.

She went to work, she paid her bills, and she bought books and practiced plays at the community theater. She tried to keep herself busy so she wouldn't notice what was missing from her life, and she wouldn't think about Jareth. She tried not to think about whether she was mortal or not, either—she definitely didn't want to experiment. One near death experience was enough. But the idea of an eternity alone was not a relishing thought, so she just didn't dwell on it.

Six months later, her body had healed from the wounds—except for some lingering soreness—and she found some happiness again in the simplicity that life could offer. Although, she also noticed she seemed to be subconsciously…waiting. She didn't date; in fact she broke up with her boyfriend. She also slept badly, so she often walked around her neighborhood at night. No one ever bothered her.

Hence today's little sojourn.

A year since Jareth had saved her from Death's clutches. It seemed fitting that she should sit out here enjoying the night air, which blew across her face like chilly kisses, noticing the beauty of the world around her. All this was possible because he'd made it possible. She wished she could thank him.

Sarah was lying down on the top of the large, plastic slide in the playground. The park was located near her apartment building. Sometimes, teenagers hung out there smoking, but tonight it was blissfully abandoned, quiet, and private. She was enjoying this snatched moment immensely. Just being a dozen feet above ground felt like she was much closer to the stars. Maybe if she reached out, she could pluck the moon like a pearl.

_I wish…_ Sarah thought, but didn't voice it, just sent it out into the night like a soap bubble or a firefly.

Maybe she dozed for a minute or two, she wasn't sure, and when she opened her eyes the moon hadn't moved much from its perch in the sky, however she felt that something was very _different _with the world.

And then she heard an achingly familiar voice say, "I have always had thoughts about adults who play in children's playgrounds."

Sarah grinned, but managed to school her expression into cool amusement. She sat up and looked over the plastic, red railing. Standing on the ground with his hands on his hips was the Goblin King and he was a sight for sore eyes. The street lamp gave off enough light to illuminate his golden hair and cast long shadows on his face that, annoyingly, obscured his expression, but she could hear the amusement in his voice. He was wearing the costume from the Escher Room—leather vest, dark tight breeches, boots and all. She'd always liked that outfit.

"What thoughts?" Sarah asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Why, that more people should do it, of course." She saw a flash of white and knew that Jareth was grinning. "Precious, I've come an awfully long way, why don't you come down here?"

"Why don't you come up _here_?"

"The Goblin King does not climb children's slides!" He sounded affronted, despite the grin. Sarah couldn't help laughing. Only the Goblin King could still look kingly standing in sand in a children's playground.

"Alright, alright." Sarah sighed dramatically, then pushed herself down the slide. At the bottom, she drew a leg up and propped her chin on her knee. "Well now, Goblin King, I think I should ask where you've been this last year?"

Jareth stepped forward, which cast a little more light on his face, enough so that Sarah could see his expression sober. He looked around, then pointed at a bench just outside the playground perimeter. "Shall we talk, Sarah?"

Sarah sobered, too. "I'd like that."

As they walked to the bench, Jareth asked, quietly, "Have you been well, Sarah?"

"Quite. In a way, I suppose I should thank you for this year. Some people may have been bitter, always wondering when their time was up, but I've learned a lot from everything that's happened. I've enjoyed every day as if—at the risk of sounding macabre—it was my last." Sarah smiled reassuringly at him. "And you? How have you been?"

"Well enough." Jareth waited until she sat, then sat down next to her.

"So what happened?" Sarah asked. "Everything's a bit foggy at the end." She remembered Death swooping down, breaking the red thread. She shuddered at the memory.

Jareth looked bleak. "My powers did not work in Death's domain. I could not save us. In the end, we managed to make it to the entrance, but the damage had been done. The thread was broken…"

Sarah nodded. "But you didn't come for me. Wasn't that the deal? My life for eternity Underground? 'Fear me, love me, do as I say' and all that?"

Jareth looked away, his face obscured by shadows again. "Something like that," he said, amused. "Actually, I was a fool, I learned what that damn connection was too late. Do you remember the book, Sarah?"

"The…the book? _The Labyrinth_?Yes." Sarah frowned, trying to follow his train of thought.

"Remember how the story went? 'But what no one knew…'"

"'…Is that the Goblin King had fallen in love with the girl and given her certain powers,'" Sarah finished, frowning. "But that was _before_. You couldn't've fallen in love with me _before? _The connection was made after I arrived—"

"I fell in love with you not knowing what it meant," Jareth said, bleakly. "And on a lark I let you call me and you _did_. As you said, a domino effect. If anyone is to blame, it is I, for it was risky to give you such powers."

"Domino effect?" Sarah mused. "I'd rather think of it as a dance."

Jareth smiled. "Regardless, it happened, and the moment the red thread came into existence was the moment I realized _what _I felt for you."

Sarah remembered: Jareth on the cliff, his head in his hands, murmuring to himself, _"What a pity."_

"My powers, again, forging a link between us, because I wished it so," Jareth continued, half to himself. "A link that persevered when you said I had no power over you. Why, I can't be certain, except maybe there was a seed of some feeling inside you…At any rate, it was the red thread that allowed us to be connected, even through death. But, when that thread was broken, any link I had to you was gone, as well."

"So, why didn't you appear before now?"

"I _couldn't,_" Jareth said. "Until _you _wished for me. _Truly _wished for me. _I had no power over you._"

"I did! I said it a million times before tonight! 'I wish—'" Before she could say more, Jareth pressed his gloved finger to her lips, stopping her. Around the digit, she said, "It didn't make a difference."

"You didn't wish for me, Sarah."

Sarah was about to retort, _"Didn't you hear me? I did wish," _when she stopped to think about what he said. She'd always wished with the yearning to know what had happened that moment when everything had gone white. She had wanted to ask questions of the Goblin King. Only tonight, when she'd sent that tiny wish out into the night, had she just wanted to see him…because she missed him, because she wanted him there. Because she loved him.

"Okay," Sarah said, moving away from his touch because it was distracting and right now she needed a clear head. "Okay, so what now?" She paused, then asked, quietly, "I have to go with you, don't I?"

Jareth's face hardened. "Yes."

"Forever."

"Yes."

"Because I traded my soul to you for my life."

"Yes, Sarah."

Sarah looked away, licking her suddenly dry lips, and then asked, "Death said that if I did so, I'd never 'know its embrace.'" She looked back at the Goblin King. "Am I mortal, Jareth?"

Jareth had the decency to look slightly guilty, after all he'd made Sarah an offer without really naming the terms. However, all he said was, "No."

"Am I like you?"

"No, you are simply immortal."

Sarah nodded. "So…it really will be an eternity Underground?"

Jareth sneered, his eyes flashing with anger. "Is that so horrible, Sarah? I don't understand what you want! You asked for your life—I gave it back to you! I trespassed in death for you! I came to you when you called! And even before, even when you sought your brother, I offered you every dream within a tiny crystal," Jareth gestured with his hand and a crystal ball appeared, perched delicately on his fingertips, beautiful and innocent as always. "I would give you everything again if you only asked for it, and in return I ask for so little. _You _made the bargain, I only ask for you to uphold it!"

Despite the anger in Jareth's expression, she could see his eyes and she saw the pain in them. Foolish man—foolish _king_—would never just say that he wanted her to love him; he'd never just _ask_. Sarah sighed and said, "Jareth—"

"And don't try that 'you have no power over me' nonsense!" Jareth interrupted, angrily. "You've already agreed to the bargain. You're coming with me to the Underground, Sarah, whether you like it or not—"

Sarah cupped Jareth's face in her hands, causing him to stop mid-sentence in surprise. Their faces were only inches apart now. Sarah said, gently, "_Jareth_, would you please shut up for five seconds? I'm trying to tell you…_you have power over me_."

Jareth's eyes widened.

"I've done a lot of soul-searching in the last year, and being shown your memories from new, eye-opening angles, and nearly dying, has a way of making you very contemplative. 'Things are sometimes not what they seem.' I realized _you_ were probably the biggest mystery of all, Jareth. You always showed me a mask. I never fully understood you or your motivations. And it's exceedingly difficult to wring a simple answer from you." Sarah smiled, but Jareth didn't return it. He was looking at her very oddly. She took a deep breath and continued, "I was foolishly young thirteen—no, fourteen, now—years ago. What I didn't know, well, until recently really, is that in order to love someone you have to give them power over you. I love you, Goblin King. You rescued me from goddamn Death itself! How could I not lo—?"

Jareth interrupted Sarah's confession, which she thought was a rather touching and heartfelt one, by leaning forward and kissing her. She couldn't begrudge the kiss, despite it interrupting her emotional confession; the kiss was wonderful, ten times better than the one they had shared in the ballroom. It spoke quite eloquently of love and forever and dreams. Sarah's hands had fallen away from his face to wrap around his shoulders, pulling herself closer to him. Jareth possessively splayed his hand across the side of her neck, but he kept the kiss startlingly gentle. He kept brushing his lips over hers, feather light. The shockingly intimate, loving kiss was doing something to her, making her heart feel like it was expanding in her chest. She wasn't sure she could bare such tender, joyful feelings; she might die after all.

She felt saturated with emotions, with sensations; the feel of his silky kisses sent tingles through her body. Jareth's scent surrounded her; that spicy, wood smoke smell filled her nostrils. It wasn't enough, she wanted to taste him. Delicately, Sarah licked the tip of her tongue across his lower lip and wasn't surprised when she got the faint taste of peaches on her tongue.

Jareth growled, opening his mouth and coaxing a deeper kiss from her. Their tongues touched and Sarah gasped at the tingles it caused in her belly. _Don't let this moment end, _she thought, dizzily, as Jareth kissed along her jaw and pressed his mouth to her neck, just over her pulse, licking the skin there as if tasting her. She shuddered, moaning deep in her throat. He wrapped her in his arms, keeping her close as he kissed along her neck and the collar of her shirt. Sarah was very glad for the scoop neck T-shirt. It allowed more flesh to be kissed than her flannel nightshirt.

Sarah tipped back her head, gasping as Jareth left teasingly soft kisses along the base of her neck. She stared at the stars and then said, huskily, "You—you know, there's going to be none of that 'let me rule you' stuff."

"Mmm," Jareth said, and Sarah could feel his lips vibrate against her skin.

"And—and none of that 'fear me' crap either," Sarah managed, although it was very hard to think and speak when he was doing such a good job of kissing her.

Jareth moved far enough away so he could murmur, "Really, Sarah, you take away all my fun. How am I meant to be villainous?"

"Oh, I'm _sure _you'll find a way."

"A challenge. I do so love challenges," he said. Sarah felt a soft kiss just above her breasts and her heart began to pound harder, if that was possible. Then, with a smile that she felt against her skin, Jareth kissed back up to her mouth. He pressed his lips to her, fiery and passionate, and left her breathless.

"Shall we go home, my love?" Jareth said, with a knowing smile. His mismatched eyes sparked with some challenges that Sarah definitely wanted to explore further.

"Yes." She stood impatiently, which caused the Goblin King to grin. _Smug bastard, _Sarah thought, affectionately.

She felt a tug on her wrist and looked down to see a familiar red thread tied around it. Except it seemed to be a much deeper shade of crimson, and it didn't seem so fragile anymore. She said, "Look, it's back."

"Indeed," Jareth said, sounding pleased. He made a flourish with his hand and a crystal ball appeared in his cupped palm. With his other hand, he grasped Sarah's and bent over it, kissing the back of her hand, but the chivalrous gesture was ruined when he looked up at her with mirth-filled eyes. The red thread tied the short distance from her wrist to his.

Without breaking the kiss, Jareth tossed the crystal up and it exploded in a shower of glitter, the magic whisking them home.

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**Author's Notes: **Voila! I present you with the completed story. I hope you've enjoyed the journey as much as I have. I know things got a little freaky back there - honestly, I was surprised (and a little pleased) by how many people said Part 5 freaked them out. I was hoping for suspense...anything more than that was gravy. I hope this is a happy ending for you. I know, I could have made this a tragedy, but I'm a sucker for a happy ending.

**Please review! **Let me know what you think about the ending and the story in its completed state. While I consider this story fairly strong on its own, I am toying with the idea of a one-shot sequel. What do you guys think? Either way, I have some other short fics in the work, as well as continuing with my WIPs. If you're interested in reading my other works, I'd suggest Author Alert-ing me so you'll know when I post them. :)

This story has a few nuances that I didn't indulge in, however I'm making a "commentary track" on my blog where I'm stuffing all my thoughts, all the hidden plot details, stuff I didn't add in this story, etc. It's kind of like an extra feature on a DVD. If you're interested, please check out my weblog (corditequill . wordpress . com OR find the link on my profile page). The first part of the commentary is already up and the rest will follow through this week. :)

I really enjoyed writing this story and thank you everyone for your comments, encouragement, and wonderful remarks. They've really helped me keep going, produce one more word or chapter. Until next time my pretties, when once again Jareth and Sarah will struggle to find common ground. XD


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